


I Can't Directly Disobey Orders

by LitsyKalyptica



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Duelling, John died for him, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-20 10:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LitsyKalyptica/pseuds/LitsyKalyptica
Summary: The risks were calculated, but Alexander was bad at math.





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay, so we’re doing this…”

Alexander, with some ill-placed sense of triumph, turned heel and started back in the opposite end of the dueling ground. The first lights of day bloomed pink and gold on the horizon, but the sun had not yet peeked out from behind the eastern slopes. They had time yet, but not much.

Alex took a moment to admire the scenery. He couldn’t recall the last time he had taken such a chance to look upon the sky at early twilight. He dawdled only slightly, breathing in the beauty of a morning that promised glory.

And if nothing else could’ve convinced Alex of their impending victory over a gutless general, the fire in John’s eyes were more than enough. This was not a man who was about to be overcome by a coward, nor unwitted by the threat of death. Alexander let a heavy exhale out through his nose. The deadly determination in his companion’s eyes shouldn’t have roused something in him like this.

“We are at an impasse, dear Laurens!”

It was a surprise to neither of them. John set to loading his pistol, expertly, mechanically, watching Lee do the same across the field. He switched the gun from one hand to the other as he shucked his coat, making himself more courageously vulnerable in just his shirt.

Alexander rested a hand on his shoulder, letting it discreetly stray down his chest. He let his fingers linger, the metronomic thrumming of his fellow soldier’s heartbeat reverberating through the reedy bones. He was reminded, as if suddenly, of the little time they had left. 

“Lee is a coward, but his anger is real and may bring him the courage he needs to try to end you. We cannot trust he’ll throw away his shot.” Alexander’s voice was low; he noticed the slow nod he received, and continued. His lips were dangerously close to John’s ear. “Summon your courage, my dearest, and finish what we’ve started.”

Their eyes caught for just a moment. Alexander held stiff so as to keep himself from melting. He took two long steps back as Laurens faced his opponent. “Back to back, gentlemen!”

“Ten paces,” Burr added. “Mr. Hamilton, will you do the honor?”

Alexander straightened up, starting the count off with a smug grin.

“1… 2… 3…”

The sun was fast on the rise, just starting to peek out from behind the mountain, the heavens watching them in plain, naked daylight.

“4… 5… 6…”

Alexander could see Lee shaking in his boots as he took stiff steps forward. John’s steps were steady, deliberate. Alex was almost distracted from his count.

“7… 8… 9…”

Alex couldn’t help but feel some relief to know that Lee would not have another chance to drive their soldiers to humiliating defeat, would no longer be able to besmirch the name of His Excellency General Washington.

Both men held their pistols at the ready. A final moment to pray for forgiveness, for mercy.

“10!”

Two shots rang out.

 

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

Alexander’s ears were ringing. The world around him was edged with darkness, and for a moment he thought, with some amusement, that perhaps he had been shot himself. What a fool Lee must be to shoot a man who was not evenly technically involved in the conflict. Would he deserve it?

Lee had been shot in the side. The bullet had barely grazed him, less than two inches between the entry and exit wounds. Huh; John wasn’t aiming to kill. He wouldn’t have missed.

The unconscious part of his mind processed the situation much more quickly than any conscious part, which was probably why Alexander was feeling terribly ill even before he saw his dear Laurens taking a stumbling step backward. One hand was trembling as it came to his stomach, a bloody wound just to the left of his navel begging for much needed pressure. Alex was not especially nearby to him, but he was close enough that he could see the deep red blossoming on his shirt.

“John?”

Alex stepped forward, not realizing how unsteady he was until he almost tripped over his own feet. John was stiff and shaking as he struggled to stay standing. Alexander’s hands came to his shoulders and almost knocked him over.

“John… Here, lie down. Come on.” One hand on John’s quaking shoulders, the other on his tense lower back, Alexander lowered him to the ground. It took some precarious maneuvering, but Alexander managed to shrug off his coat and sit cross-legged on the soft, damp grass. He folded up his coat almost too carefully and tucked it under John’s head.

“Alex.”

“Shh, no.”

“Did I get him?” John was left panting with the struggle to get that out in one breath, and Alexander had to let out a wet laugh.

“You did. Not terribly well; he’ll survive, but you got him.”

“Good enough, I guess.” He was breathing hard, grinning with lightheaded delight even as he quickly went pale.

“Good enough indeed, dear Laurens. Quiet now, save your strength…” Hamilton had to put more pressure on the wound, lest John bleed out before he could see a doctor. He heard the indignant squawk of John biting back a yelp of pain. “Look at me, John.” He held his eyes in his own as he kept a small and loving smile on his face.

_ “We’ll need a medic.” _

_ “The General is coming!” _

_ “What is going on here?” _

The voices rang around in Alexander’s head, but he paid them no mind. He struggled to keep a soft and reassuring smile on his face as he maintained eye contact with the wounded man in front of him, the man he could only dare call a friend in the presence of others, but whom he knew much more intimately, loved much more tenderly.

“Hamilton.”

Alexander would’ve liked to stand to attention, to demonstrate total reverence for General Washington, if for no other reason than to save himself and John from being sent home with their tails between their legs. But Alexander didn’t even look up. As long as John could look at him, Alexander would be looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

With a quick order, Washington sent an attending young soldier off to fetch two medics from the camp. Evidently realizing that he wasn’t getting a response from Alexander right now, he moved in long and heavy strides. “Mr. Burr. Where has General Lee been shot?”

“In the side, sir. Not a terrible wound, sir, but I’m sure a doctor would like to see it sooner than later.”

Alexander caught the beginning of the conversation that ensued, hearing as if he was underwater, the edges of his vision clouded to everything but his John. John’s eyes had started to glaze over, his head lolling slightly before Alexander could take him gently by the chin and straighten him out again. “Stay awake.”

John tried to lift his head to see the extent of the damage. His own coat was wet and heavy with blood, but not quite soaked through. He couldn’t tell the breadth or depth of the wound; although the pain had set in, it could only be felt as a throbbing ache echoing throughout his abdomen.

“I trust it feels worse than it looks.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Alex laughed. “Oh, have you? You’ve thus far robbed me of the opportunity to hear such a story.”

“I’ll have to… tell you sometime.”

“I wait in eager anticipation.”  _ Humor may stave off despair. I cannot let him succumb to fear any more than I can let him succumb to death. I will laugh to my dying breath if it means he can joke through the pain. _ He adjusted the coat to press a less saturated patch to the wound. He redoubled his efforts to stem the blood loss; John’s gasp trailed off into a keening groan, and Alexander could only mumble an apology as he could not let up on the pressure. He tried to ignore how John’s breathing grew more labored. “Just keep looking at me.”

“Alexander.”

“A medic is coming.”

“Alexander.”

“Help is almost here.”

“Alex.”

Every refrain was quieter than the last. In a desperate move to keep John from slipping, Alexander plunged the heels of his hands into the wound before pulling back, but was left with a painful twinge of regret as John only let out a choked yelp before going quiet again.

“John, please.”

“This isn’t… This isn’t the end…”

“I know. I know, our story isn’t over.”

John smiled, and it was all Alexander could do not to cry. And then, John was the one who started it, who started humming the soft and intimate melody of their favorite drinking song. Alexander quickly and enthusiastically joined in. One hand came up, shaking and stained red, to push a sweat-damp curl from John’s forehead.  _ He looks a right mess; as handsome and beautiful as ever. _ He wanted to say so, but was unwilling to interrupt their tune.

Alex heard several sets of footsteps approaching. “Help has arrived, my dearest.” He said it in such a quiet voice, so unnatural to even his own ears, that he worried John might not hear him.

A camp medic, just a little older than the duo themselves, came to kneel next to Alexander. “Here, Hamilton, let me see.”

Alexander reluctantly let go of the coat to let the doctor peel it back. Relieved of any urgent duties, Alex moved up to John’s head. He’d only barely broken eye contact, and was blessed to find that when he met John’s eyes again, John was looking back.

And then, as if out of morbid curiosity, John was trying to crane his head up to get a look at the revealed wound. Alex quickly pressed him back down. “No, I assure you will not want to see how it looks. Not terribly interesting, even; just a bloody mess. Ruined your nice shirt.”

John puffed out a laugh. “Ruined Lee’s coat.”

Alex grinned, softly stroking his hair. “Poor bastard didn’t think to take it off.”

“He’s going to live.”

“And so are you.”

“That’s right…”

A moment lingered between them in silence. Alex ran a hand over his curls again. He dared to twirl one strand around his finger. “Everything will be back to normal again soon.”

“You promise.”

Alex’s heart swelled. There was no question in it; John trusted his word completely. “I promise.”

John gave one more smile before he slipped into unconsciousness. Alex’s fingers tightened in his hair, almost unconsciously.

“John?”

Alexander glanced quickly at the medic, who didn’t seem concerned, so Alex decided he didn't need to be, either. He didn’t need to panic at the suggestion that John may never wake again. He’d just wait, tension turning his stomach. He finally allowed himself a moment for tears, but only the quietest of tears.  _ Don’t blubber for nothing, especially not in front of the General. John will be fine. He’ll be fine. Just fine. _

“Hamilton.”

Speaking of the General.

Alexander, now not having to worry about losing John’s gaze, finally looked up upon the commanding figure of Washington standing over him. Alex’s lips tightened into a hard line, and he stood stiffly, knees achy and pants stained with green patches. He stood at attention, one straight hand to his hairline. 

“General Washington, sir.”

Washington said nothing for a moment. “Dr. Reeves, you and Kirkland can bring Mr. Laurens back to camp. I’ll send Alexander shortly for any updates on his condition.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alexander had to watch as his bleeding lover was carried away from him.

“Alexander.”

“Sir.”

“I expect a report detailing the events that led up to this disgraceful incident by end of day.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alexander.”

“Sir?”

“You aren’t even looking at me.”

“I apologize, sir.”

“Come with me. We have much we’ll need to discuss.”

His stomach sank, but his head held high. “Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking of the "Story of Tonight" music box cover when imagining them humming together. Check it out if you haven't: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6O49RncHeDA


	3. Chapter 3

“Sir—”

“Alexander.” Washington sat behind his desk, taking a moment to collect his thoughts as the soldier stood at attention just a few feet away. The silence was almost maddening for Alexander, who thought his time could be much better spent at John’s side. “What was your involvement in this affair?”

Alex felt his shoulders tense in a way he hoped wasn’t visible to the general. “I was Laurens’s second.”

Washington bridged his fingers in front of his face. Alexander couldn’t see the downward turn of his mouth, but the furrow of his brow made the deep frown quite evident. “And despite the pride you take in your eloquence and diplomacy you were unable to negotiate peace?”

“It was out of my hands, sir.” Alex took a deep and steadying breath; a poor move, on his part, as it betrayed the careful thought he must put into the falseness of his answer.

Washington raised an eyebrow in what might have been amusement if he wasn’t so put off. “Oh, was it? Burr insisted he was eager to reach a truce.”

“That may be so, sir, but Lee and Laurens were itching to face off despite our involvement. Nothing could have been done to quell their lust for retribution. If I were to be honest, sir, I do not regret that the duel came to pass. I can see the doubt in your eyes, sir, but I have no other truth to offer.”

Washington leaned his forehead to his folded hands, not moving nor speaking for several minutes. Alexander shifted his weight from one foot to the other, growing increasingly antsy as the moments ticked on.

John needed him. Could this conversation not be saved for later?

“And now two of our own men have been shot. Will your conscience be free of guilt should their wounds prove fatal.”

Alex glanced off to the side. “Lee was barely grazed, sir. John didn’t aim to kill, only to wound, to wound Lee’s pride if nothing else. The small scar will serve as a reminder of his cowardice, but I trust will meet with a speedy recovery.” He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “And John is stronger than a bullet to the abdomen; he’ll be just fine given time and rest. And you know him, he’ll be eagerly back to work in no time.”

Washington hummed, but gave no other respond. Alex decided he must continue, floundering only slightly.

“He will spend a few days in the medical tent. The wound will need to be thoroughly and frequently cleaned, and I may need to be there to keep him from lashing out at the poor soul who is assigned to that role.” He laughed, but his laughter was only met with a stronger silence.

At long length, the General spoke again. “I have a good mind to send the both of you home.”

“Sir?”

“This is definitively neither the time nor place for such juvenile behavior.”

“Sir, you wouldn’t do such a thing.” It was a brazen claim, and Alex was lucky when Washington didn’t send him packing immediately. “Allow me to clarify my statement, sir: in our time of need you couldn’t afford to lose your most loyal and valiant soldiers. Laurens and I have wholly sworn our service and our lives to you and to the liberation of our colonies.”

“You set that loyalty in direct contradiction to your pride and your tempers. We can’t afford hostility among our troops. We’ll make a mockery of ourselves if we’re killing each other before the British even get the chance. There is also the matter of your disobedience, Hamilton. I ordered you to drop the matter with Lee, and the very next day Lee has been shot in part by your actions.”

The thought came to Alexander’s head to assure that it was John’s idea, that John had wanted the duel to carry out, that John had pulled the trigger. But the words never came past his tight throat, knowing that it may never have happened if it wasn’t for his involvement. And now John was wounded as well, worse than Lee.

And what if he didn’t survive? Would it have been worth it?

_ No, I must not think that way. Doubt only breeds despair, and this is no time for despair. _

Alexander sighed heavily. He felt very tired. “Your Excellency, I trust you will come to the right decision on this matter. In the meantime, I must beg pardon to seek news of my friend’s condition.”

Washington looked to be thinking it over, and the hairs raised at the nap of Alexander’s neck as he considered the request may be denied. “Alexander.”

“Sir?”

“I expect that full and honest report on my desk by sundown.”

Sensing his release, Alex took a small step back to the door. “Yes, sir. Good day.”

 

For such short legs, Alexander made quick strides to the medical tent where he knew John will be kept for the time being. He passed several beds of dying soldiers, head bowed slightly, but eyes upward to seek out the doctor who had brought John off the field (Reeves, if he recalled).

“Ah, Dr. Reeves!” He found the doctor, but without John in sight. Alexander jogged over in some anxious pace. “Dr. Reeves, how is John Laurens doing now? Where is he? Can I see him?”

“Oh, Hamilton. Well, what I can tell you right now is that we were not able to remove the bullet, but we have stopped the worst of the bleeding. The poor man spent most of the treatment awake and fully alert to the pain.”

“Can I see him?”

“He must rest now.”

“I will allow him to rest. My presence may help ease him, even.”

“Ah, very true. He was asking for you for some time. Here, Keller! Bring Hamilton to see his friend.”

The boy couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old, and was probably made to do the dirtiest work in the tent, that which none of the men were willing to do. Alexander didn’t envy his position, but the boy must have relished the opportunity to do something more mundane.

John’s cot could be found in the far back corner of the tent. Alex rushed ahead of his guide at the sight of him. John was bare-chested and bandaged up, a thin cotton blanket pulled up to his stomach. His hair had come partly loose from its ribbon, and as Alex approached, he went right to the head of the bed to work on tying it back properly again.

John winced his eyes open, and his head tilted back to get a look at Alexander. “Alex.”

“Shh, you’ve been ordered to rest.”

“How can I rest with you tugging on my hair?” He was left breathless by this own sentence, which boiled concern in Alex’s stomach.

“You’ve never had trouble with such a thing before, dear Laurens.” The Keller boy had left, and everyone else in the tent was some ways off and otherwise occupied. In effect, they were alone and free to whisper indulgences to one another. “Your hair is handsome up or down, but you must pick one.”

“Put it up, then.” He sighed and let his eyes close for a moment.

“You’re drenched in sweat.”

“The doctors were rough.”

“My poor John.”

“Better than drenched in blood.”

“Very true.” He leaned in close, closer than he probably should’ve permitted himself to. “And I say this as though I’ve never seen you drenched in sweat before.”

John laughed softly and reached up to lightly graze his fingers against the back of Alexander’s head. He could deny the softness of the gesture if anyone questioned, but no one was around to see them. “I resent this flimsy cot for not being big enough for the two of us.”

“Save your breath, dear thing. But perhaps I could push one up against yours and make one bed for the two of us.” It was an empty promise in the medical tent, but something they could look forward to once John was well again and back to their shared quarters. “Are you in pain?”

“Yes.” The answer was too quick and certain not to elicit a pang in Alexander’s chest. “Yes, but I’m alive, and I’ll be alive tomorrow, and the next day.” He went pale. “Alexander, do not let me die by Lee’s hands, I couldn’t bear the shame!”

“Shh, shh, do not work yourself up over nothing. You will not die here. You will die either on the battlefield or in fifty or sixty years’ time.” He ran a gentle hand over John’s tamed hair, and he longed to offer a reassuring kiss. He didn’t know what could be reassuring about a kiss, but perhaps it could provide a distraction. But despite the words they could exchange in the relative privacy of their little corner, he couldn’t dare such a gesture.

John settled then, sinking into the stiff cot, and Alex finished tying his hair. John was asleep by the time he was done. Alexander kissed the tip of his finger and pressed it to each of his sleeping lover’s eyelids.

 

_ At ten in the morning yesterday, John Laurens challenged General Charles Lee to a duel. The charge is that Lee has repeatedly dishonored the name of Major General Washington, to whom Laurens is fiercely loyal. Lee accepted the challenge and named Aaron Burr his second. Alexander Hamilton, who knew of the plan to duel in advance, was named Laurens’s second. Negotiations between Burr and Hamilton were fruitless. Pistols were obtained by Lee; Laurens and Hamilton arranged for a physician to attend, who remains unnamed and did not attend the duel the following morning. The duel took place a quarter mile from the camp. Burr and Hamilton attempted negotiations again, but again came to no agreement. Both men fired according to the rules of the duel; Lee was wounded in the far right side with a visible entry and exit wound; Laurens was wounded in the left side of his abdomen, and the bullet didn’t pass through. Both men survived the encounter. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to run through "Ten Duel Commandments" in my head for that last bit. Don't forget to comment!


	4. Chapter 4

“You’ll be thankful for this when the pain wears off.”

Two days since the duel and John had been making very slow progress until now. Dr. Reeves had filled Alex in on the details, but he didn’t believe it until he saw the bandage unwrapped to the infected wound. John had not yet taken a fever, so they could risk a hope that with proper cleaning the infection may be contained.

Alexander had to hold John’s shoulders down as the poor assistant cleaned out the wound. The slug of whiskey they’d given him in advance was evidently doing nothing to dull the pain. John let out a loud whine and Alex couldn’t help but laugh. “You are turned such a child from a simple cleaning.”

“You get shot in the stomach and we’ll see how you feel.”

Alex nudged his nose into John’s shoulder when the medic wasn’t looking. He whispered to him, oh so quietly, in French for good measure. “Please don’t believe I fail to understand or that I envy your pain, but I can’t help but find the humor when my brazen soldier boy turns into a whining mess. It’s just so out of your character that I find myself laughing.”

John gave him a half-hearted pout. Alexander could distract him from the pain like no amount of alcohol ever could. The exchange continued in French. “Don’t tease your poor Laurens. The pain is real and it is intense.”

“Oh, but the medic has finished his work on you. See? He’s bandaging the wound as we speak.”

“And thank God for it.”

“Dear God, thank you for—”

“Alexander!”

Alex laughed louder this time, and it even got a grin and a small chuckle out of his lover. And that was all Alex needed.

 

“Hamilton.”

“General Washington, sir.” Alexander stood at attention beside the cot. John, who had just woken up rather late in the morning, attempted to move to attention as well as he could with the wound in his stomach and heaviness in his limbs.

“At ease, men. We have some serious matters to discuss this morning.”

“Sir, could it not wait for this afternoon? John’s only barely woken up.”

“I’m fine, Alexander.” He attempted again to sit up on his own, brows furrowing in frustration as Alex had to help him sit up, and then in pain as the wound throbbed.

A glimmer of sympathy could be seen in Washington’s stern eyes, but only by those who knew how to recognize it. “You two have distinguished yourselves among the small class of true soldiers. As well you have proven to be my most vehemently loyal and brazen soldiers, and I do not take such distinctions lightly. But while I admire your courage and devotions, I cannot show such favoritism as to let your behaviors slide.”

Alex’s heart sank. “Sir—”

“I hope you will take my orders with a recognition for the place of caring that it comes from, caring both for each of you and for the troops more generally, as it will be to the benefit of all for you two to be sent home now.”

“Now?” Alex’s lips moved a moment soundlessly as his thoughts whirred around in his head. “Now, sir? John is in no state to leave now.”

“I will give a few more days for the both of you, but then I ask that you both leave without making a scene of it. John, it is much more likely you will be able to recover at home than by our meager provisions.”

_ If he makes it there. _ Alexander bit his lip hard.

“And Alexander, you have your own reasons to return home. Your wife has written me asking for your safe return as soon as possible.”

Alex’s eyes flew open. “Is she alright?”

Washington waved a hand. “Yes, she’s fine. She just wants you at home for her own reasons.”

“Alright…”

Alex looked at John, who was swaying slightly as he attempted to stay sitting up on his own. He was pale and sweating, but when Alex lightly touched his forehead he wasn’t unusually warm. Still, the risk was there as long as he couldn’t heal completely, and it may be some time until John was able to safely return to his family in South Carolina. He had no choice but to go to New York.

And he could go with Alexander.

“John, you must come and stay with me.”

“Alexander.” Washington frowned. “It’s already been arranged for John to return to his family should anything happen to him.”

“But the distance is shorter, so the travel will prove less taxing. He’s not in any state to travel right now.”

“It is not your decision to make, Alexander.”

“But should it not be mine?”

They both turned to John, his eyes firey in the midst of a deep frown.

“Alexander. General Washington. If either of you would be so good as to allow me the dignity of choosing my own arrangements, it may do wonders for a sick man.”

Alex expected Washington to argue, even as he knew he himself would not. But no argument came. “You’re correct. I’ll leave you to think on it.” The soldiers —former soldiers, they might soon accept— both saluted, and Washington turned to exit the tent.

They were alone enough in their corner that Alex could take John’s hand in his own. “John, will you not join me in New York?”

“Alex, I will. It is the only possibility for any good options.”

Alex was almost giddy with relief. “Oh, you are truly a brilliant and practical man.”

John smiled almost shyly, but couldn’t help teasing. “Must I agree with you more often to earn such praise?”

“As though you don’t agree with me often enough anyway.” Made incredibly bold in his excitement, Alex pressed a moment’s kiss to John’s mouth.

 

_ My dear Eliza— _

_ The battlefield grows more taxing with every day that I cannot see your sweet face, but I admit that having my Laurens here with me eases the despair to some extent. I must first remind you, though, that I hold enough room in my heart for the both of you, and I must speak again of my gratitude for your indulgence of my deep fondness for him. _

_ Washington has warned me that you have written after my hasty return, though he did not disclose a reason except insomuch as there is one. It is likely I will see you again before you are able to answer my correspondance, so I must eagerly or anxiously await what condition may have caused you such hurry. I fluctuate between the two depending on my mood. Almost fortunately, it has come to pass that our time apart will be abbreviated by recent events. Washington will send both John and I home in just two days’ time. Please do not assume that your husband has been brought to shame, as we shall part on good terms with the General. I will not bore you with the details here as I write you with a more urgent matter.  _

_ I have thus far taken advantage of your kind and generous disposition with too little to offer you in exchange, so I regret that I must ask for one more indulgence. John has been wounded and is made ill by it, and I cannot bear to have him sent home to his family so far away and with no loving companion. So I have offered that he may come to stay in our home until he recovers. I will make all necessary arrangements for his care upon my arrival; I only ask from you permission of my scheme and for a bed to be ready for his arrival. I would prefer he have a room with a view of the street but that is not too drafty nor too stuffy, as he may spend quite a time cooped up. _

_ I trust you will find it in your heart to house a sick man in his time of need so that if you do not care to do it for me, you do it for the sake of your own conscience. You are a good woman, Eliza, and I know you will make the best of possible decisions. _

_ Yours forever, _

_ Alexander Hamilton _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen too much historical!Lams art lately and I can't get the ginger and the blondie out of my head and it makes me ang-er-y. Don't forget to comment!


	5. Chapter 5

Alexander sent the letter with a messenger boy and immediately set to packing both his and John’s belongings. They were few, and no cumbersome task for a man who would much rather his companion spend the interim resting for the travel. They were due to leave in the morning, and Alexander hoped to camp out next to John’s cot so that they could awaken and set out together.

Lafayette stumbled upon him on his way over. He stared briefly at the two bags before meeting Hamilton’s eye. “Alexander? Are you going somewhere?”

He knew he mustn’t make a big deal of their departure, but he couldn’t leave without a goodbye. “Washington has decided that John and I are better suited elsewhere. I’m certain the duel didn’t help our case.”

The man’s eyes widened in the dim light of dusk and sputtered a moment before he could speak again. “My God, you’re leaving? Will you be stationed elsewhere?”

Alexander bit his lip to keep the whole truth for spilling out. “I would ask the general about the conditions of our exit. I would rather take this moment to say goodbye to my dear friend.”

“Oh, Alexander…”

They embraced, arms wound tight around one another, the boundaries between their two bodies almost diminished enough for them to become one. Alexander had never been intimate with the marquis in the way he’d long been with John, but he was a close and greatly valued friend whom he would miss terribly. “I’ll see you on the other side of the war, dearest Lafayette.”

“Until we meet again, Alexander.”

They clapped each other on the back before pulling away. To be in each other’s presence any longer may make the farewell more difficult, so Lafeyette just mumbled that he would say goodbye to John as well before they left. Alexander, knowing that he would be by John’s side from now until their return to New York, felt the pang of a second impending goodbye. “I will leave him alone a moment longer now so that you may bid one another farewell.”

Lafayette nodded quickly and hurried over to the medical tent, where he had visited John several times already, although Washington kept him fairly busy.

Alexander dawdled, watching soldiers go by. It had been a rather slow day; the British were quite a ways off, and didn’t seem to be making any moves in the moment, at least according to the American intelligence sneaking information from the enemy. The standstill left everyone buzzing with anxious energy during the day, but nervous energy was quickly exhausting. Alexander wasn’t the least surprised to see so many yawning men slipping into their tents for the night.

The sun had some time ago slipped below the horizon, leaving only the gray dregs of daylight in the sky. Alexander watched the misty silver to fade to a grim blackness. There were no stars out tonight; Alexander felt suddenly a minuscule presence in the world under the eyeless gaze of the heavens. He moved then, quickly, to the medical tent.

Lafayette was gone by the time he arrived.

John and Alexander would have the corner to themselves, save for one more cleaning of the wound before poor John could be left alone to sleep again. Alexander set the bags down at the foot of the cot. “Our friend has come by?”

John nodded. He lay flat, a thin book held up above his face. When Alexander sat beside him, he could see the muscles in his arms quivering with the effort that could not be spared. “He played the mother hen, worrying over me and how I will travel when I am still recovering from the shot.”

“Oh, he best not worry too hard or he’ll put me out of a job.” They both laughed, but John’s was weaker than Alexander had heard it just that morning. “You’re tired, John, please set the book aside and rest some more. We’ll have time in excess to read on the ride home.”

“I’ve rested all day, Alexander. My mind will be wasted on rest.”

“But your body will thank you.” He plucked the book from John’s hands, achieving the expected result of John’s arms falling back to his sides. But, to his surprise, John turned over onto his side. It looked to be painful, judging by the new tension in his face, but he was speaking again before Alexander could protest the new position.

“Have you the audacity to fault me for the same behaviors you yourself exhibit daily?”

Alexander grinned and touched John’s cheek, very lightly. “Oh, if you must ask such a question you do not know me at all!”

John half-heartedly swatted his hand away. “I know you more completely than anyone in his camp; perhaps even more so than yourself.”

“Then why must you ask me such a question as one to which you already know the answer?” he teased, face almost dangerously close to John’s. “Or must you be reminded of my most treasured secrets?”

“It depends on whether any of those secrets have anything to do with me.”

“Oh, too many have to do with you.”

“Then I may need reminding.”

Alexander gauged whether they were alone before kissing him. He let his lips linger as long as he could know they were alone. “Oh, I wish I could do such a thing knowing that no one else would stumble upon us.”

“Will we have no time alone when we are in your home?”

“My Eliza demands my attentions as much as yourself, but I will spare no opportunity to indulge on my secret desires. But let’s leave that for another time now, as we set out in just a few hours and you must sleep.”

“Only if you sleep as well.”

“I will.” He unfurled a blanket beside the cot. “I will be down here, my dear John. So sleep well knowing your Alexander is here beside you.”

And he did sleep well —as well as he could with a bullet in his stomach and a still healing wound.

 

Well before dawn the two made their way to the edge of the camp, where a carriage would await them.

John was feeling weak that morning, but blamed it on a combination of sleepiness and several days in bed leaving his legs feeling leaden. Alexander cautiously challenged this assumption, but John insisted, keeping a smile even as Alexander needed to all but carry John against his side.

They took a moment to look over the camp. They wondered whether they’d miss any of it, whether they’d miss all the soldiers they had come to know and befriend, whether they felt any shame at being denied the opportunity to fight for the freedom of a country they loved so much.

Each knowing their own on the other’s answers, the question went unspoken, heavy in their chests.

The carriage arrived promptly as they reached the outskirts near the woods. The driver said nothing to either of them, knowing his direction and having nothing to say to the soldiers in exile.

Alexander set their bags on the seat opposite them as they sat together. John was panting quietly as he leaned against Alexander’s side. “John? Are you alright?”

“I’m as well as I could’ve expected, Alex.”

“Here —I’ve got some books to read.”

“It’s still dark out.”

“What would you like to do instead?”

“Perhaps we could get some more sleep.”

Alex nodded, swallowing. “Yes, that sounds just about right. You’ll lie against my shoulder?” There was no way the driver could hear them any better than he could see them, so they were free to be open with their romantic affection.

“I certainly will.” Alexander’s shoulders were rather bony, and poked John hard in the cheek, but he had come to love it. The mild discomfort only served as a reminder that Alexander was there, and he was his.

They didn’t sleep too long, and we not much closer to New York when they awoke again to the morning sun. John was the first to wake, uncomfortably to a pain in his stomach. He tried to keep himself from shifting about, letting Alexander sleep some more, certain he would not take the chance too often in the coming days. He took a moment (though with difficulty at this angle) admiring the distraction of his lover’s sleeping face. Some scruff had come to his chin and cheeks, more attractive than John could admit too openly. Of all the men John had known, Alexander must have been the most handsome in body, mind, soul…

Another pain, and John couldn’t help doubling over. Alexander awoke with a start, his mind clearing of sleep before he could react with concern. “John? John, are you alright? Is the wound bothering you?”

“I’m just fine, Alex. The pain is fading away already, and the medics were so diligent in caring for the wound.” It was only a partial truth, but no fault of the doctors. They had other soldiers to tend to, and there were too few of them to get around to everyone sufficiently.

Alex nodded with reluctant acceptance. “Alright. When we stop at an inn for the night we will call for a doctor.”

When they arrived in a town to stay the night, there was no doctor to call upon, as the doctor was off helping a young woman with a difficult birth. Neither man resented the inconvenience. “I do not envy her a bit,” John said as they settled in for the night. He fell into a restless sleep before Alexander could reply.

 

They were crossing the Hudson when John took a fever. It was mild, only warm to the touch as Alexander brushed curls from the other man’s forehead. Alex thought briefly to give the driver a new address, that of a doctor he knew near his home, but decided that John would do better to get settled in the Hamiltons’ guest room first and that the doctor could be sent for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New favorite thing to write: gay flirty banter from the 18th century. Apparently.  
> Don't forget to comment!


	6. Chapter 6

The tree was in front of the house, and the bench was under the tree, and Eliza was sitting on the bench when they arrived. She stood as the carriage pulled up beside the fence, smiling softly, a slender hand resting on the swell of her stomach. Alexander caught sight of her through the window, a grin rising on his cheeks at the sight of his dear wife after so long. But as his eyes fell on her stomach, he felt his own drop.

He hopped out of the carriage, his wounded companion quite forgotten for the moment. “Eliza!” His hands came immediately to her waist, eyes set on the evidence of a child he had not known about. “Is this… Is this the reason you asked I be sent home?”

“I wanted you to be allowed the chance to be around for your son.” It may have been presumptuous, but nothing would make Alexander happier than a son. And Eliza knew this. “And you can’t be a father from beyond the grave.” Her voice was light, hopeful and relieved, but her eyes were firm, and she held onto his hands with the strength of a woman who would not lose her husband again.

In a moment of joyous impulse, Alexander kissed her much too deeply for any sort of propriety, betraying his meager upbringing. He pulled away with a huff and a bright grin, and Eliza knew nothing in this world was worth more than that smile. 

But Alexander’s joy soon sank to concern. “Have you been well? Has our son been treating you fairly?”

“Yes, yes, Alexander. Perhaps the most perfect pregnancy I could’ve hoped for. The doctor says that everything is fine, and will most likely continue to be fine.”

The doctor. Doctor. “Eliza, did you receive my latest letter?”

“There was only one to which I have not responded. You asked me a favor.”

“And have you found the time and the compassion to follow through?”

She smiled softly. “None less than you’ve requested.”

Alexander nodded and kissed her hand before returning to the carriage. “John! John, do wake up! I have the most wonderful news.”

John blinked slowly at him, mind clearing of sleep. “Yes, Alexander?”

Alexander set to helping his companion out of the carriage. The excitement had returned to his face. “I’m going to be a father.”

John laughed a little breathlessly and hugged him from the side. “Well, I will be most annoyed if I am not named the godfather.”

“I couldn’t imagine a better candidate.”

Eliza opened the gate for them, a sympathetic wince marring her handsome face. “Dear Mr. Laurens, it’s so good to see you again, though I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.”

He chuckled and kissed her hand. “I could conceive no better circumstances than the excitement for your unborn child.”

She smiled and glanced at her husband, eyes searching for any doubt for John’s recovery, as Eliza couldn’t miss the almost unsettling warmth of the man’s face. But she found nothing but light in Alexander’s eyes, so she did not press the matter. “I’ve prepared a room for your arrival. Alexander, it is the one next to our own, with the large window.”

Alexander wanted to kiss her again, but he couldn’t make John stay upright too much longer. “Yes, thank you, my dear wife. John, let’s get you to your new room.”

Eliza hadn’t spared the smallest comfort. The bed was made with a down blanket, folded open for ease of access, and two spare pillows firm enough to keep its occupant seated upright if arranged properly. The window was indeed large, curtains drawn, open to allow the daylight and morning breeze inside. The desk had even been moved from across the room to stand between the bed and the outer wall. Alex grew almost frantic at the thought of his dear wife trying to move the furniture with a child in her belly, but Eliza assured she’d gotten a neighbor to help make the arrangements.

“Here, John, into bed with you…” He helped John get settled, propped up at a slight angle, and pulled the blanket back over him.

Eliza laughed softly. “Poor man will have to sleep in all his clothes.”

Alexander blushed. “John, would you rather get changed before settling in?”

“No, Alex, I’m alright.” He seemed somewhat winded still from the stairs, looking flushed.

“Alright.” Alex turned to Eliza. “My dear, will you stay with him while I fetch a doctor?”

She nodded. “I’ve already informed Dr. Terence that you will need him.” Her smile took on a similar smugness to her husband’s. “I’ve convinced him to clear his schedule in anticipation of your arrival.”

Alexander kissed her, pulling back only to touch her cheek, pride in his eyes. “Oh, John, do you see why I married this glorious woman?”

“If only I shared your disposition, Alexander, I may have envied you.”

Alexander kissed her cheek again before hurrying out.

 

“Dr. Terence! It is Alexander Hamilton, I know my wife has spoken to you.”

The door opened slowly. “Mr. Hamilton. Yes, I’ve been expecting you. Here, give me a moment to get dressed.” The man dressed in his coat and shoes and came out the door to a nervous Alexander. “Will you explain to me your friend’s condition? Mrs. Hamilton could not give me too much detail on the matter.”

“Yes, doctor.” They started walking as Alexander spoke. He explained the position of the wound, leaving out the circumstances under which it had been obtained. “The camp medics worked to keep the wound clean and dry, but it seems to still be causing much pain, and he came to run a mild fever this morning.”

“So the biggest concern would be for infection,” the doctor hummed, matter-of-fact. He didn’t so much as glance at Alex on the short walk back to the Hamiltons’ home.

They arrived at the guest room to find Eliza perched at the foot of the bed, she and John engaged in pleasant conversation. Alex’s heart warmed at the sight of his two loves in a blooming friendship.

“Dr. Terence.” Eliza stood and bowed her head briefly. “Good morning, sir. I’m so glad you could take the time from your busy schedule to tend to our friend.”

“It’s no trouble, Mrs. Hamilton. I hope the pregnancy is treating you well.”

“Yes, we’re doing well. Mr. Hamilton just discovered now that he’s going to be a father.”

“Well, congratulations, and I hope you two the best. Now I must ask that I be left to do my work on my new patient.”

Eliza escorted a reluctant Alexander from the room. Alexander’s face is flushed as they sit down on the edge of their own bed. “Eliza, perhaps you’ll think me a fool, or you may be jealous of my affections, but I do not want to be away from him in this moment.”

She folds his hands in both of hers. “I try to understand, Alexander. Perhaps I do not always understand, but I love you and I know your feelings are real and true.”

He kissed her hands and sighed deeply. “Pardon a fool his worries. We must speak of other matters. How long until our child is born?”

“Dr. Terence says probably in January.”

“We must be diligent about the winter weather, then. It may be best to keep a midwife in the house from the first snow until our boy is born.”

“We’ll see what we can do.” She was happy she could keep him distracted.

A yelp could be heard through the adjacent wall. Eliza stared in concern before looking to Alexander, only to find he was smiling fondly. At the confusion on her face, Alexander knew he needed to explain. “Dr. Terence is just one in a long line of poor souls who must clean the wound of a most difficult patient!” He stood and dusted himself off. “Would you join me, my dearest?” he asked, offering his hand.

She took it graciously and followed him back to the guest room.

Alexander let out a hearty laugh. “John, John, why must you so vehemently protest the very hands that will heal you?”

“I have not known one pair of hands yet that have cleaned the wound properly, Alexander.”

Alex laughed again, but his growing concern showed in his eyes. “And what would you call properly?”

“They use water when they ought to be using alcohol.”

That seemed reasonable. Alexander chewed the inside of his lip. “Dr. Terence, do you use water to clean a wound?”

“I do not, Mr. Hamilton. I know better. And judging by the state of the wound, it is no surprise to me that it has not been properly cleaned.”

Heart in his throat, Alex moved quickly closer to get a look at what the doctor was referring to.

It was the first time he was seeing it since John had been shot. The wound was open, a deep purple, rimmed with red and a crusting yellow edge. 

Alexander swooned at the sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> Don't forget to comment!


	7. Chapter 7

Once Alexander was lucid again, Dr. Terence assured him that the infection could be contained, that John’s fever was still only mild. “With proper care there’s a better chance for recovery.”

Alex swallowed and nodded. “Well, proper care is our only option, then.” He looked at John to find he was scowling, which only brought a gentle smile to Alexander’s face. “John, you look so put off by the decision.” But he received no response except a low grumble that John would rather sleep now. Alex frowned at that. “Dr. Terence, if you could leave us be for a moment, I must have a brief exchange with my friend.”

Dr. Terence nodded. “The wound has been cleaned and if I could just dress it again, I will be able to take my leave.” Alex let the doctor finish his work, wrapping a new bandage around John’s middle. “It will need to be cleaned and the bandage changed twice daily. I will send an assistant of mine with a bottle of medicinal alcohol later this evening, in time for a new cleaning.”

“And I will head to the store to purchase some freshly woven bandages this afternoon. Eliza, will you show the doctor out?”

Eliza nodded. Dr. Terence tipped his hat, and Alexander nodded in turn as they departed, leaving he and John alone in the room.

“Dearest, might you explain to me the bitterness in your silence?”

John looked at him with steady tired eyes. “You’ve frequently been speaking of me as though I am not in the room, able to speak for myself. I am no invalid.”

“Oh. I hadn’t noticed, but I apologize. I hoped only to make things as easy for you as possible, not having to worry about exerting the mental energy to make such decisions when you are ill.”

John was silent and still for a moment, but a small smile slowly came to his flushed cheeks. “Either you didn’t notice you were speaking for me, Alexander, or you were trying to save me the energy it took to speak.”

Alex smiled and took advantage of their aloneness to steal a soft kiss. “I will be demonstrating my affections much more clearly in the coming weeks, dearest John.”

“I understand your Elizabeth knows of our relationship. Will I be asked to share you?”

“Yes, but certainly you know I have enough room in my heart for the two of you.” Alex leaned in for another kiss, taking another moment to nuzzle his nose. “Perhaps I have enough room in my bed for three.”

“Mm, and I wonder how would your wife take to that.”

“I must ask her, but I do not doubt she’d take the opportunity to have another handsome man in her bed.”

“Another? Is there one already?”

Alex swatted his arm for the teasing, earning a bright laugh from his lover. Alex laughed along with him and fell into the bed at his side. As the laughter grew quiet and eventually silence fell between them, Alexander stroked two fingers up John’s arm. There was something distinct about loving another man from loving a woman. Nothing better nor worse; just different, beautifully unique in a way that Alexander craved both in equal measure. “My dearest, I’ve often wondered what it may be like to spend eternity by your side.”

John was quiet a long moment. “I can’t say I haven’t considered the same, but…”

“I know. I know it isn’t possible. But a fool can dream, can’t he?”

John shook his head slowly, chewing on his lip. “Alexander, is this worthy of our damnation?”

Alex leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Do you doubt it?”

“Not for a moment.” He kissed him back, more fiercely this time.

 

In the afternoon, Alexander interrupted his time with John only briefly to go and buy new bandages. He left one lover in the care and company of his other in his absence, and returned to the same pleasant air he’d found them in that morning. Alexander would really love nothing more than for them to become close friends, and it seemed they were well on their way. Alex had Eliza make their dinner while he cleaned the wound with concentrated alcohol Dr. Terence had sent. Alexander had some difficulty with the sight of the infected wound, but he could quell his uneasiness in reaching up to feel John’s forehead, reassured in a still mild fever.

John was uncommonly tame for Alexander’s probing hands around the wound. “I thank you for your cooperation, my dearest,” Alex said with a warm smile. He additionally thanked him with an even warmer kiss.

They ate dinner together in the room, Eliza sitting at the desk and Alex standing with his plate. He eagerly dug into the first home cooked meal he’d had in very long, and John was much the same, though less energetic in his consumption. They both poured praise of the food onto Eliza, and she was still blushing as she brought the dishes downstairs.

Alexander returned to his own bedroom once John fell into a restful sleep. It had taken some time; John seemed reluctant to forfeit any time they had together. Alex would be lying if he said he didn’t share the feeling. But he also longed for Eliza’s presence, so with John finally asleep, he felt no guilt in indulging the other half of his heart.

Eliza glowed in the lamplight as she lay in her bed clothes, reading in the comfortable silence. Her eyes moved to fall on her husband, and she smiled. “So good of you to join me, husband.”

“I could not resist spending our first night reunited by your side.” He changed into his own pajamas and climbed into bed, his head low enough to lay beside the bump of her stomach. He stared at it, eyes twinkling. “In just some months we will welcome our first child into the world.”

“Our first of many, I suspect.”

“I can assure it will only be one of many, my dear.” He moved up to kiss at her neck, hand smoothing over her stomach, seeking to feel the child under her skin. “Have I missed his first movements?”

“No. I am guessing they will come soon.”

“Tonight, perhaps?”

“Possibly.”

“I will have to stay awake and vigilant all night, then, lest I miss it!”

Eliza laughed and put her hand over his. “No, you must rest. It’s been a long day, and you are just tonight sleeping in a proper bed again after so many months away. Even should you miss a movement, I will lie and say that the first one you feel is the first one I feel.”

“Such a considerate wife.” He kissed her softly on the mouth, and cuddled into her side.

“Alexander? Could you tell me about how our guest was shot?”

He hummed, turning the options over in his mind, carefully analyzing which would be the best one. “He was shot for his loyalty to General Washington.”

“Mm. In what sense?”

Well, there was little else he could say if he decided against lying. “Charles Lee had said many disparaging things about Washington, and John was not having it. He challenged Lee to a duel.”

Eliza frowned; he could feel her jaw set against the top of his head. “Alexander. Do you not find such behavior to be foolish and reckless?”

“No, I do not,” he said definitively. “Anyway, John got Lee in the side, but only barely. A good man, he was not shooting to kill, only to wound: his pride, more than anything. Lee it seems was not so virtuous. He could’ve killed him.”

Eliza softened a bit in sympathy, stroking her husband’s hair as an unspoken “and might yet” lingered. “Well, he’s recovering now. He’ll have better care here than he could have in the army camp, yes?”

“Yes, certainly.” He sighed heavily. “I should have known they were cleaning it with water. There would not be enough cleaning alcohol to care for all the soldiers. We were so low on supplies, Eliza…”

“Shh, rest now, Alexander. You are safe and well cared for at home with your family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Can we agree that duels are dumb and immature?" "No."  
> Don't forget to comment!


	8. Chapter 8

Alexander was the first to wake in the morning, or so he thought. He stretched and took in his surroundings. It had been so long since he’d been home; everything felt unfamiliar and at the same time so comforting. He looked down at his slumbering wife and attributed the feeling of comfort to her presence. He stroked a hand over her hair, and then over her stomach, bidding a quiet “good morning” to their unborn child.

He got changed into his house clothes; debated whether to tie his hair up or not, ultimately deciding to keep it loose; and moved next door to check on John.

John was awake, and had moved to sit by the window. Alex’s stomach sank. “Dearest John, why must you wear on my poor nerves this way?”

John hummed but didn’t turn to look at him. 

Alex went to sit beside him, and only grew more concerned as he approached. John was panting, flushed, holding a hand to his stomach. But he was smiling. Alex held onto that smile. “You’ve exerted yourself. Very unwise, my good man.”

“You can see the sunrise from here, Alex.”

Alex looked out the window to the distant horizon. It could only barely be seen from their window, only through a few alleyways between other houses. But despite all the potential obstacles, it came through. And Alex smiled, watching pink and orange paint the sky. “It’s beautiful, John. Perhaps we’ll have to wake up in time for the sunrise more often.”

“I’d like to very much, Alex.”

Alex stroked his hair gently, and winced. “Your fever’s grown worse.”

“Just barely.”

“Enough for you to be back in bed.”

“Once the show is over.”

Alexander sighed and retrieved the blanket from the bed. He wrapped his lover up in its warmth, allowing himself a long moment to keep John in his embrace. He tucked his face against John’s shoulder. They couldn’t be seen by anyone at this angle. “You must not leave the bed without a blanket.”

“Alex—”

“If only to keep my mind at ease. Do you want to worry your poor Alex?”

John sighed. “No, I don’t.”

Alex pressed a light kiss to his skin. “Such a considerate lover.”

John smirked and laid a warm hand over Alexander’s.

“John? Come back to bed.”

“Alex, I will rest again as soon as the sun is all the way above the horizon.”

Alex kissed down his shoulder. “Darling, we may yet have time before Eliza wakes up. I would like to take advantage of such time.”

John laughed, a good and full sound echoing in the room. “And you pretended to worried about me exerting myself.”

“You will not have to do anything, my love.” Alexander’s hands moved on his chest, one higher, one lower. “I’ve brought you here so that you may be well taken care of. And I intend to fulfill such pleasant obligations in every capacity.”

“I suppose I could not decline such an offer.”

Then it wasn’t so difficult to get John back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a very small chapter tonight.  
> Don't forget to comment!


	9. Chapter 9

Alexander spent the rest of the morning in John’s bed. Eliza must have awoken some time ago, he noted, but if she was wondering after his current situation, she did not come acting on her curiosity. Alex blushed as the image crossed his mind, one of Eliza walking into the room when he and John were intimately engaged.

It went on like that for many more days, and those days soon became two weeks spent mostly at John’s side. Alex had not expected such an innocent pattern to show any negative effects, but the effects emerged regardless. 

Eliza, in all the time Alexander was spending with his bedridden lover, had withdrawn from the little time he did spare for her. She grew weary with the work she must do around the house; the infant in her stomach grew more and then less active, and Dr. Terence worried for the child’s health, which did no good for her nerves. She only shared shreds of details with her husband, and so Alex was not beside her as she fretted over each small movement within her.

John, similarly, grew somewhat weaker each day. The fever rose in small increments, but did rise steadily. In spite of Alexander’s consistent care and companionship, and increasingly frequent visits from Dr. Terence, the infection continuously proved more elusive. Despite the draft coming through the large window, John’s visits to the window for every sunrise had not died out. Alexander found himself wishing for a thicker blanket to wrap him up in.

 

Alex took advantage of his sated lover’s state of undress to clean and bandage the wound. It didn’t look worse than the night before, which was promising except in how it hadn’t looked very good in the first place. The infection was evident still, despite the thorough and proper cleaning. And it was evidently very tender, as John flinched from Alexander’s touch. Despite the pain, he was less resistant to the treatment than before, perhaps because he had accepted that it was for the best, or perhaps because he had no strength leftover from both the fever and the recent sexual encounter.

With a small smile, Alex assumed it was both in part.

“I imagine that as you’ve now fulfilled your obligations to me, you’ll be wanting to spend the rest of today with your wife.”

Alexander frowned deeply from where he sat on the bed. John had never sounded so resigned to the transition. “In an ideal world I would be able to have the both of you equally and at the same time. We do not live in an ideal world, but we may make the most of a situation to raise our circumstances to our standards.” He hesitated, just for a moment. “I would like to ask that Eliza come and share the bed with both of us, but I’ve already asked much of her while offering little in return. And although I love you both in equal measure, I have now spent the morning with you, and ask your pardon to spend only a short while with my Eliza. I trust this small reprieve will not stir jealousy in you.”

“It will not.” John picked at the edge of the blanket. “But I fear the situation stirs something even more unpleasant.”

Alex tilted his head. “And what might that be, dearest?”

“A sense that I am an unwelcome presence in your home. You and Eliza have a child on the way, and yet you’ve taken me into your arms and into your bed in the very room next to where you sleep with your wife at night. I am an intrusion.”

“John, do not think that for a second.” Alexander took his hands and kissed them before he could pull away. “You are not an intrusion. I have invited you here, insisted you stay with me while you recover, at least. Eliza has accepted our love and has not asked, even with our son to be born in less than half a year, that I keep my distance from you. I cannot neglect her, do not want to neglect her, but nor will I keep an unnecessary space between us. I love you, I adore you, in the same way I love and adore my wife. And right now you are ill and wounded, so I find myself selfishly wanting to spend more time at your side. And perhaps it makes it all the harder for me to go from you to her. But while I would do well to climb back into this bed and be content to just lie at your side all the rest of the day, it would be at the expense of someone who I love just as dearly.” 

He stood, shaking out his hands, his arms, all the way to his shoulders.

“I cannot stay now, John. I will join Eliza for only a few hours, assure her that my affections for you do not diminish what I feel for her. I will help her understand why I spend so much time beside you. I will assist her in whatever capacity she needs me. And then tonight, when I must change your bandage again, I will return to you.” He gently stroked John’s hair back out of his face, trying to ignore the burning heat of his skin against his palm. “You must rest now. Rest, and I will have returned before you know it.”

John grasped Alexander’s hand tight in his own. The flesh of his hand was just as warm and damp as his head.

Alexander remained firm in his decision to leave the room, and knew he must act quickly lest he change his mind. “I will send for Dr. Terence. He will tend to you. Rest, my darling.”

He gently pried his hand loose.

 

Alex spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening with Eliza. She did not speak to him much, mostly just let him help her in making a loaf of bread for their dinner. Dr. Terence had arrived in the late afternoon, and had been upstairs with John for some time before Alexander broke the silence between himself and his wife.

“I understand you may be upset with me.”

Eliza said nothing. Alex went on.

“And you have every right to feel the way that you do. Your husband comes home from war and he spends nearly all his time with the same man he’d spent so much time with on the field…” His voice softened. “Another man whom you may feel you must compete with for the affections of your foolish husband, who truly deserves neither of you.”

She was facing away from him, deliberately so, but he heard a light laugh, and that was enough to break the tension in the room. Alexander smiled brightly.

“Ah, yes, one Alexander Hamilton, a bastard Caribbean orphan, not a penny to his name. He manages to win his way into the heart of the famously kind and virtuous Elizabeth Schuyler, and the first thing he does is disappoint her. Truly, the man does not deserve her, yet knows he is blessed in how she stays with him through all his foolish antics. Blessed, and continues to be blessed with the prospect of a beautiful and brilliant son, a boy perhaps even as beautiful as his mother.”

She is still laughing, kneading the dough for a loaf that would be saved for tomorrow. He chances a step closer, and then another, continuing until he is flush against her back, arms coming to wrap around her waist. His hands fall on the now prominent swell of her stomach.

“I am sorry I have neglected you so.” He kissed her neck. “I am a flighty man, Eliza, but an honest one. And I swear to you that I will aim to divide my affections much more evenly between my two loves.”

“I trust you will…”

There was some uncertainty in her voice, a distrust he must work to mend. “How is our son doing?”

“He had started to move, though not in a way you would be able to feel. But then he’s gone more still, much less active than those few days.” She sighed, breath shaking on the end.

Alex frowned and rubbed a hand over the bump. “Has Dr. Terence offered any explanation?”

“No, but he seems to be worried our child is not as well as he’d anticipated.”

He pressed his face into her shoulder. “We will see, then. Just know I am here, and I love you.”

She laid her hands over his own and hummed softly, shoulders quaking as she sobs. Alexander turned her around and pulled her into a tight embrace that had her melting in his arms.

 

Dr. Terence came downstairs some time later.

“Dr. Terence, you must stay to eat with us,” Alex insisted. “My Eliza’s prepared you a plate and everything.” Alexander was holding two plates himself, one of his own food and one for John, ready to bring it upstairs.

“I’m sure the food is delicious, but I must take my leave.” The doctor lifted his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Hamilton, will you walk with me to the street?”

Alex stiffened, but the smile didn’t fade from his face. He set the plates down on the table. “Yes, of course. Eliza, I will be back in just a moment. Don’t worry, darling, you eat, I will bring John his food on my return.” He put on his coat as the nights had grown chilly.

Dr. Terence didn’t say anything else until they had nearly reached the road. “Mr. Hamilton, in the morning I will have to close his wound. The infection isn’t draining.”

Alex froze. “What… What does this mean, then?”

The doctor pulled out his pipe. He would pack and smoke it on his walk home. “I will return with an assistant in the morning.”

Alex wanted to ask again what this meant for John, but he was afraid to know the answer.

“Good night, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Good night, Dr. Terence.”

Alexander returned to the house in a haze. Eliza found him in the hallway as he stared up to the second floor of their cozy home.

“Alexander?”

“Eliza.”

“Is something wrong? What did the doctor say?”

“He’ll be back in the morning. He will need to close the wound. The infection isn’t draining.”

Eliza said nothing at that. She just wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Is his food still hot?”

“Yes.”

“I will bring it now.”

John was asleep when he got upstairs. He set the plate on the desk and sat on the edge of the bed. He watched him sleep, watched him breathe. He didn’t know he’d been there for four hours until Eliza found him and coaxed him to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment! Comments encourage quicker updates!


	10. Chapter 10

In the morning, Alexander returned to optimism.

He returned to John’s room, as he had every morning, up before the sun. He found John still asleep, and took a moment to admire his restless form before he gently shook him awake. John groaned but didn’t open his eyes, so Alexander tried again. “Come, dear, or we’ll miss the sunrise.” John grumbled something about not feeling too well, but Alex paid it no mind and helped his lover sit up straight. “We’ll leave the window shut today.”

“No, no, the fresh air will do me some good.” He took a few breaths and worked to maneuver himself out of the bed. Alex kissed his head and brought the blanket to wrap around his shoulders. 

John was puffing softly as Alex helped him sit in the window seat. “It felt so much further away away today than yesterday.” He was holding his side as he continued to catch his breath, and Alex just nodded and rubbed his back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. Alex wanted to tell John what Dr. Terence had told him, but this wasn’t the time or place. The large guest room window, this early in the morning, was for watching the sun rise. Alex stood by his companion’s side as they watched the sun peek over the horizon.

Alex dreaded when it was over.

As the sun emerged completely, the pinkish sky fading into a bluish silver, Alexander had to face the day ahead. He just wished John didn’t have to. “John, darling, the doctor is coming back today. The infection hasn’t drained, and…”

John looked up at him with warm, tired eyes. His smile was small this morning. He gave a slow nod, but his head remained tilted downward. He swayed slightly. “I… I feel rather ill. It’s cool out today. Let’s open the window wider.”

Alex pushed the glass panels outward. A chilly breeze rushed in, and Alex hugged himself tightly, shielding his thinly sleeved arms against the chill. John didn’t flinch, just tightened his fingers into the blanket.

“Alex?”

“Yes?”

“Promise me you’ll be there.”

Alex was shaking. He tried to hold back, but he could no longer.

He broke down. He cried in his lover’s arms. John laid a scalding kiss to the crown of his head, and held him, although he was as much dependent on Alex to keep upright as Alexander was on him. No words were exchanged between them. No words could adequately capture how they were feeling in that moment.

That was how Eliza found them.

“Alexander? John? Dr. Terence is here.”

 

Alex fought to be by John’s side as Dr. Terence worked on him, but the doctor was insistent on Alex leaving the room so as not to disturb or distract his patient in a way that might make the procedure more difficult or unduly dangerous. Alex had argued, his voice steadily rising. Eliza urged him to stay calm, to quiet down lest the neighbors come knocking, but she mostly focused on pressing a cool cloth to John’s burning forehead.

Alexander was burning as well, but with passionate anger and frustration. “I will send you from my house before you send me from this room!”

“Alexander!” Eliza stood and took him by the arm. “Dr. Terence, sir, could you excuse us for just a moment?”

The doctor nodded and stepped out of the room. Eliza spun and stared her husband down.

“Alexander. What good do you think it will do to send the doctor away?”

“His reasons for trying to send me away are completely baseless!” He turned to John. “John. Tell Eliza you are much better off with me by your side.”

He got no response.

“John!”

“Alex, I’m tired. I’m so tired. Do what you will.”

Alex deflated. As if for the first time, he took in John’s poor condition. His face was red and damp with fever, deep pale violet bags under his bloodshot eyes. Knotted curls clung to his head and neck; his chest rose sharply before falling more softly, in quick succession. 

Alex didn’t dare glance at the uncovered wound in his abdomen, but the smell… the smell struck him for what was certainly the first time. Alexander almost vomited.

“John… John, I’m sorry.” He rushed to him, knelt at his bedside, took John’s hand in his own and pressed it to his face. “I’ve acted so selfishly. I have put my own needs before yours, and… what kind of partner does that make me?” He kissed his moist palm. “Please. I will do whatever you need me to. Ask anything of me and I will make it so.”

John laughed; there was no humor, no joy in it. “My dearest Alexander, my greatest wish in this moment is beyond your control to grant.”

Alexander collapsed in sobs for the second time that morning.

Eliza let the episode pass before she let the doctor back into the room.

Alex left with her, exhausted and meek. She had to lead him out and to their own bedroom.

“Alex, dear. Speak to me. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

But he said nothing. He listened carefully for the possibility of something going wrong on the other side of the wall. After just a few minutes, a harsh yelp of pain could be heard. Alexander sobbed less than a moment after the sound ripped through the silence, and Eliza rubbed his shoulders.

“Alexander. I… I think I can understand now. I picture you in the other room, horribly ill and in pain. And it makes me want to weep for hours; I can see myself breaking down like you are now. And I find I understand how you feel for him, because you are a strong man, and I can imagine only the most horrible pain bringing such a strong man to fall to pieces.”

He fell into her arms, pressed himself tightly against her, clung to her. His tears wet the soft fabric of her dress. She took his hand and brought it to the swell of her stomach. Their son moved beneath his trembling fingers, and Alex cried harder.

The pained wails continued on the other side.

“Eliza. Eliza, I fear for him. I have seen him through the worst of the war, and he would never emit so much as a whimper. What incredible pain it must take for him to shout and whine like we hear now. I…” He let out a shaking sigh. “I wish that he will not be made to suffer longer, but I fear I will not be there if… when…” He broke into even smaller pieces.

Eliza nodded in understanding. She gently pried him away to look into his teary eyes. She put on a soft smile as she stroked his prickly cheek. “Alexander… darling… would you like to return to the room?”

He almost shook his head, knowing that to return was to accept that this may be the end. Another shout broke through the wall. Alex nodded slowly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-sexual nudity toward the end of this chapter!

Alex and Eliza found that Dr. Terence was finishing up his work with the infected wound, washing blood off his hands in a basin of water. Alex moved wordlessly to John’s side, watching helplessly as his beloved writhed in pain and fever. Distantly, he could hear Eliza defending his presence to the doctor.

“ _ Dr. Terence, good sir, I trust you will be able to take your leave now. My husband has been nothing if not thorough and diligent in his care of Mr. Laurens, so he may be left to care for him now. _ ”

A few moments later, Alexander heard the doctor leave. Eliza was truly a godsend, a much better wife and woman than he could ever deserve. But that didn’t mean he didn’t need her. He reached one hand back behind himself, letting out an involuntary whimper as he reached out for her. And ever compassionate Eliza came over and rested her hands on her husband’s shoulders, rubbing them gently through his wrinkled shirt. Alex held one hand over hers, the gentleness of his desperation in stark contrast with how tightly he was gripping John’s hand.

John was drenched in sweat, soaking through his shirt, droplets on his cheeks mixing with his now dried tears, his twiny curls clinging to his forehead. He was bright red across his cheeks and nose, but the rest of him was ghostly pale. He didn’t seem to be sleeping, but his eyes were shut tight, brows knit tight together. Alexander found himself hoping he could just sleep and be rid of the pain and sickness. His shirt was bunched up around his chest, severed bandages hanging loosely from his abdomen as the wound was left uncovered but closed up. Alexander dared to take a look at it, and wished he hadn’t.

The wound was almost crudely repaired. An incision had been made on either side to open it up so that it may be more properly stitched closed. The fresh edges were mostly pink, while the bullet hole was a dark red and so deep a purple it was almost black. There was half-dried blood and some other greenish-yellow fluid on poor John’s stomach. Alexander attributed the acrid smell in the room to that thick fluid.

Alex choked back a sob. The strong man he loved so much had been rendered absolutely pathetic. He held tighter onto John’s hand, offering him whatever comfort could be found in his presence; he squeezed tighter on Eliza’s hand on his shoulder, seeking out what little comfort he himself could be granted.

Eliza moved his hand to her stomach, to the exact spot he may feel their child, their son, moving under the stretched skin: a flickering light of joy in the midst of so much despair.

Not taking his eyes off of John, Alexander spread his fingers across the thin fabric of Eliza’s nightgown. Their son kicked, once, against the heel of his hands.

Alex wanted to share his joy with the one he thought may need it the most. “John. John, are you awake still?”

John returned to awareness, slowly opening his eyes, which were red-rimmed and glassy, grayish purple bags underneath.

“John, dearest, what do you suggest Eliza and I might name our firstborn son?”

He just stared for a moment. The fevered confusion was evident in his near vacant gaze. “I… I had no suggestions, Alex. It is not my child.”

Alex smiled and moved his hand from Eliza’s stomach to join his other as it held John’s. “Oh, how I wish the three of us might learn to share the child!” He looked to his wife, hoping she might humor his desperate imagination, and he found she was smiling softly down at him. He leaned to her to kiss her belly, cheek lingering against her for a long moment. “Wouldn’t you like a son, John? I am quite certain it will be a boy.”

John was silent.

Alexander looked back to him. His eyes were open and less tense than before, but they were empty of anything that may be detected. Alex’s eyes shot to how John’s chest moved in hitched breaths, a small relief coming on with the knowledge that no, the vacant stare wasn’t indicative of anything more horrific. Regardless, he let the topic go there, and just took in John’s listless form as it lay covered in various drying fluids.

Alex looked up at Eliza, his chin on the crest of the bump.

“Eliza, darling? Might you go and heat some water?”

Eliza stroked his hair gently. “How much water?”

“Perhaps enough to clean and refill that basin right there. Call upstairs when it is done, and I will come to fetch it. Don’t boil it, just let it simmer.”

She nodded and tore herself away from him to leave the room. She shook out her shoulders, dimly aware of how she was almost excessive in her acquiescence to her husband’s desires. She hoped only to see him smile in his misery.

 

Alexander, despite the mental and emotional anguish of these last few weeks, felt himself physically stronger from the proper food and sleep in a soft bed. And he had to believe in such strength if he was going to move John downstairs to the kitchen.

John, for his part, had lost quite a bit of weight. Alexander hated to see him look so small, but it would make it somewhat easier, especially as John was in no state to keep himself up in Alexander’s arms.

“Here,” Alex said, as he pulled aside the blanket. He winced as John shivered, but remained confident in his plan. “Wrap yours arms around my neck, Jack, come on.”

It took some more encouragement and maneuvering, but John did wrap his arms around Alex’s neck, putting what energy he could spare into holding himself up. For Alex it meant both that John did have some energy to spare in spite of everything, and that he needed to move quickly so that his stubborn lover wouldn’t exert himself with the effort. So Alexander tucked one arm under John’s knees, the other against his mid back, and carefully lifted him up out of the bed.

John’s face was pressed into his neck.

Alex found Eliza in the kitchen, dutifully heating water over the fire. She stared in confusion for a moment before she could find her voice. “Alexander, are you certain it’s the best idea to remove him from bed?” She stepped closer and laid a caring hand on John’s burning forehead, almost flinching away at the heat.

Her husband nodded with unfounded confidence. “Thank you for heating the water, Eliza. If you could do me just one more favor today, I would ask that you retrieve the small basin from the room upstairs, dumping the tainted water out the window. I will wash it myself, and then will wash our guest.”

Eliza nodded slowly, understanding if not quite agreeing with such a plan, and headed upstairs, one hand on her stomach.

Alex st John against the wall near the fire, and started to remove the layers of his damp and sticky clothing. “When was the last time you properly bathed, dear Jack?”

John was slow to answer, but he did answer. “Do our romps in the river count, Alex?”

Alex smiled. “I suppose they will have to, as there was nothing else we could do in the camp.” He folded the clothes as he peeled them off. “I know we have been keeping the wound clean, but what good does it do for your recovery when the rest of you is filthy?”

John gave a look of mock offense. “Filthy?”

Alex kissed his nose as he removed the last of John’s clothing. “I believe our last time in the river was almost two months ago, so yes, you’re filthy. We both are.”

Their faces remained close, and John took the opportunity to kiss Alex properly. It was deeper than either of them had expected; full of love; full of apologies and forgiveness for long gone affronts that had neither been addressed nor had injured their relationship, but which they would be loathe to let themselves hold on to. But Alex had one fault that he didn’t expect John to forgive him for, but which he felt he must finally bring into the soft air between them, to lay his soul bare for the man he loved. 

(The only man he ever loved.)

“John. John, I am so sorry for having allowed any of this to happen.” There were tears in his eyes. “I could have tried harder to find a chance for peace between you and Lee. I could have negotiated with Burr, who so wished to avoid a confrontation that it should have been easy to find peace. But I didn’t. I—”

“Because I didn’t want peace.” John held onto Alex’s cheek, and Alex laid a trembling hand over it. “I wanted to fight. It is not your fault.”

Alexander nodded, but he would never believe it.

_ “Summon your courage, my dearest, and finish what we’ve started.” _

 

Alex heard Eliza returning downstairs, and moved to the doorway to take it from her. “You may better retire to our room, my darling, or to the sitting room. Our guest is nude and ready for his bath, and I suspect I will join him in his undress.”

“Alexander…” Her eyes were soft and sad, cast downward.

Alex took her hand in his cheek and tilted her head back up to look at him. “Eliza… Eliza, my dearest, darling wife, I will never be able to repay your kindness and patience. You’ve chosen a poor companion indeed. I must ask you and hope for an honest answer: are you feeling neglected by your foolish husband?”

She bit her lip and nodded, both hands on her stomach. “I suppose it may be because of the pregnancy, but—”

“Shh. No, do not discount your feelings. I… I swear I will be a better husband and a good father. I hold my love for you in the deepest and most tender regions of my heart.”

“Alexander, I have already said that I do not resent you your love for him. My jealousy is ill-placed. Whether or not I feel neglected, you have not neglected me.” She kissed him. “I know you love me. I know you love our child. And if having such a man as you in my life means sharing you with someone else, I can handle that.”

He kissed her back. “Do not think of it as sharing. It is not as though each of you have half of my heart. You, both of you, have my whole heart, and at the same time. My love for each of you is different in quality but equal in measure. And I hope that once John has recovered, I may be able to more evenly divide my affections.”

She wrapped her arms around him, her head to his shoulder, the precious artifact of their love squeezed between them. “I am sorry you are in such pain.”

He stroked her hair. “I know. And I am enormously grateful.”

She kissed his chest before pulling away. “I will do some reading in the sitting room. Let me know when you are done.”

“Thank you.”

 

John laid back against Alex’s bare chest as Alex smoothed a warm damp rag over his skin. Alex tried to get everywhere, though every time he wet the rag again, he first returned it to dab at John’s still sweating brow. He took his time, enjoying the intimacy of the moment, and it was almost noon by the time the work was done. Alex pressed a kiss to John’s freckled shoulder. “You’re all clean now, darling. Does it feel better?”

“Better than I could imagine.” Despite the still unbearable pain, he was relaxed in Alex’s arms, and a little sleepy.

“Will you eat something before you sleep, dearest?”

“I’m not hungry, Alex, but thank you.”

Alexander nuzzled his neck. “I don’t recall asking whether you were hungry, as I know you are never hungry, and especially not with a bullet in your abdomen. But you must keep up your strength so that you may recover soon.” He smiled against his skin. “Although I do expect you to remain in our home at least for the first few weeks of my child’s life. So, will you at least stay until the spring?”

“I… I hope to, Alex.”

“So, will you eat?”

His gut ached more painfully whenever he tried. “Yes, I suppose I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex has been back and forth between optimism and realism this whole time.


	12. Chapter 12

Alexander wrapped John in a quilt, laid him near the fire to stay warm as he went to retrieve some fresh clothes from his own wardrobe. Alexander picked out an outfit he often slept in; he wondered if it smelled like him. He hoped it would, because maybe it would bring John some comfort even when Alex couldn’t be right there with him.

He returned to the kitchen to find John had fallen asleep in the warm glow of the fireplace. Alex watched him for a long moment, clothes folded over his arm as he leaned against the door jamb. John looked to be at peace for the first time in weeks; Alex might have worried if it wasn’t for the soft rise and fall of the quilt as he breathed.

Alex did his very best to get John into his new sleep clothes without waking him, adamant against disturbing John’s quiet rest. But was he struggled to get the pants onto him, John started to stir, and Alex cursed himself.

“Alex?”

“Shh, darling. Try to sleep again. Eliza will make some broth for your lunch. With rest and nourishment you will regain your strength.” He laid a hand on John’s head. The fever was steady. “And your fever could break around the same time. Oh, imagine it, John, to be healed of the infection, to recover and return to your normal life.” He stroked his fingers over John’s hand.

John gave a tired smile. “Alexander, which is it? Do you want me to sleep, or do you want me to imagine what may happen after I sleep?”

Alex laughed and kissed his head. “I apologize, my love. I think of your recovery and can’t help the excitement that follows.”

“Then perhaps I ought to sleep until lunch is ready.”

“Yes, please do. But after I return you to bed.”

John nodded, then stopped. “Alex? Will you let me walk?”

He shook his head and kissed his shoulder. “The stairs are steep, my darling. It will take much strength from you to make it up even a couple.”

John tensed. “Then at least let me walk on even ground.”

Alexander didn’t like the new tension, so he decided to placate him, ease him. “Alright, I think this is a compromise we can agree on.”

Alex helped him stand. He didn’t put too much into holding John upright, didn’t want John to feel weak or helpless when Alex knew him to have the greatest fortitude of anyone he’d ever known. Alexander let him take as much time as he needed as they walked to the stairs. They passed the entrance to the sitting room, and Alex caught Eliza’s eye as she looked up from her book. He smiled, and she tried to return it.

John was puffing as they reached the stairs, and Alex hoisted him up into his arms to carry him up. It was delicate work, but he managed, and credited John with the work as much as himself. “Do you want to walk again?”

John shook his head.

Alex got him into bed, tucked him in. “Eliza must have changed the sheets while we were downstairs...” he observed with a note of awe.

“You’re truly lucky, Alex.”

Alex smiled softly and nodded. “I am.” He kissed John softly on the mouth. “I will return in just a minute. I expect you will be asleep by the time I return.”

John smiled and accepted the challenge, shutting his eyes and starting to drift off as Alex left the room.

“Eliza!” He came into the doorway, and saw her sit up sharply. She started to ask if something was wrong, but he was quick to reassure her. “Everything is fine, darling. John is asleep for now. Might you put some broth on the fire?”

She nodded, struggling a bit to stand. She went to move past Alexander, but he caught her in his arms and kissed her deeply. She melted into his embrace, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. 

They were both breathless when they finally parted. Eliza touched his cheek.

“Alexander. I do not want you to have to feel split between John and I. So if I might make a suggestion for tonight’s arrangements?”

He smoothed his hands over his waist. “Yes, dear wife?”

“I thought I might join the two of you tonight. Not intimately, just so that we may both have you, and so that you may have the both of us.”

Alex’s heart swelled. “Yes! Yes, this sounds like the most wonderful arrangement! What a brilliant woman I’ve married.” He kissed her again, but it didn’t last as long this time: much to both their disappointment, but Alex had promised to only be a minute. “I must return to John again now, but you will join us for lunch as well as for bed?”

She kissed his shoulder. “I will.”

They all spent the rest of the day together. John slept through most of it, but Alex and Eliza were company enough for each other. Alex waited for John’s most lucid moment to explain Eliza’s suggestion, and he didn’t give any sign of objection (he was fond of Eliza). He seemed to just smile softly at the thought of Alex spending the night with him. He fell asleep again soon after.

John ate his lunch and dinner, broth and bread. Eliza added a meat for dinner, but it didn’t sit well in John’s stomach, and he came to vomit over the side of the bed. He apologized profusely; Eliza assured him it was alright, it wasn’t his fault; Alex eased him through his embarrassment.

Alex and Eliza retreated briefly to their own bedroom to change into their nightclothes. Alex took a moment to admire her heavily pregnant silhouette in the lamplight. He took her hand as they returned to John’s room.

John had moved to the side of the bed closest to the desk. Alex lay beside him, and Eliza beside her husband. John was asleep long before either of them. Eliza was asleep before Alex.

Alex had not slept especially well since his first night back home, and he climbed into bed knowing tonight, while more comfortable in the presence of his two loves, would be no different.

Alex held himself close to John, guilty as he relished his warmth. He watched unconscious pains flash across John’s sleeping features, watched the uneven rise and fall of his infected abdomen with his sharp, shallow breathing. He laid a hand on John’s chest, felt the rapid and pounding thud of his heart beneath his fingers. Alex wanted to cry.

“Alexander?”

“Eliza. I can’t… I can’t lose him.”

She pressed a kiss between his shoulders. “I know.”

 

The nights were always the most difficult.

Alexander knew he would feel better, more hopeful, in the morning.

He went to wake John up in time for the sunrise, but the weather had turned, and there was no sun to watch that morning. So Alex slept against his first lover’s side, and behind the thick clouds, the sun rose without them.

 

The next few days were similarly uneasy. But four days after the bath, Alexander grew convinced that John’s fever had cooled slightly, and called on Dr. Terence to confirm. The doctor was not as optimistic as Alexander, but he did concede that John was cooler than he’d been the day before. Dr. Terence warned Alex and Eliza (John was asleep) against becoming too hopeful, as it could be just a small and natural fluctuation, and in every other sense, John was at least as poorly as he’d been. But a small relief in the fever was enough for Alex to happily hold onto.

Alex spent the day in the room with John. He made conversation for as long as John could stay awake, but was always mindful of when he grew tired, urged him to rest after no more than an hour awake. Alexander, who would quickly miss his beloved’s company, would invite Eliza into the room for quiet conversation, or busy himself with his writing. He had been in correspondence with Lafayette.

> _ M., _
> 
> _ I will open this letter, like all the others, with an acknowledgement that I miss you dearly. But I must also admit that the only two things I miss about the front are the few friends I’ve made and the path I was paving to a higher status for myself and my family. Everything else is much inferior to life at home, but I will not describe such things so as not to inspire jealousy in you. _
> 
> _ There is not much to report on here, and I remain well aware that you cannot share any details from the camp. So I will write only briefly, and not inquire. _
> 
> _ Eliza is large with our child now, and positively glowing, the most beautiful I have ever seen her. Her kind disposition remains a blessing for which I make an effort to show gratitude every day. The doctor has time and again given her a clean bill of health, and says the birth will likely not be difficult. Our child (we’re suspecting a son) is due in just two months! You could not imagine my excitement. My first child! A little boy! _
> 
> _ I am loathe to speak of less happy matters. John is still very ill, burning with fever for several weeks now, and it seems to wear on his mind as much as his body. But his fever has improved today. The doctor warns against optimism, but I am not such a fool that I would expect a full recovery with all evidence to the contrary. _
> 
> _ I trust you are well, but please do not hesitate to tell me if you are not. _
> 
> _ Eliza says hello. John says hello, and that he misses you. _
> 
> _ Adieu, _
> 
> _ H. _

“Alexander? You’ve received a letter.”

Alex looked up from his writing and smiled at her. “Have I? From whom?”

“Some ‘W. Fox.’”

He blanched and reached for the envelope. He tore it open and found the handwriting of General Washington himself. His eyes ran quickly but carefully over the lines, and what color had returned to his cheeks quickly drained again.

Eliza watched, concerned. “Alexander? What’s wrong?” She kept her voice soft to avoid waking John. She knew it had taken so long for him to finally fall asleep after supper, and she didn’t dare interrupt his restless dreaming.

Alex leaned heavily in his hands, crumpling the letter, before sitting back in his chair. His eyes were tired and seemed unfocused. Eliza was about ready to ask if he was alright, but his voice finally broke the silence. “I’m being called back to the front.”


	13. Chapter 13

Eliza took the letter from him, looked it over quickly, careless in her frustration. “Well, let this be the end of it. Write the general, let him know you will not be returning.”

Alex said nothing. He took out a fresh sheet of parchment, held his quill tight in his hand, even dipped it into the inkwell. But he put it down before he wrote a single word. He rubbed his hands over his face again, letting his restless fingers be scratched by the stubble he’d been working to grow out. He stared wearily at the wall in front of him before turning his gaze on his wife. “Eliza…”

Eliza watched him for a moment, wondering whether he could really be seriously considering the offer. She expected that he would drop the thoughtfulness from his eyes as he quickly thought better of it. But his eyes didn’t change. “Alexander, you can’t really be thinking of taking off now.”

Alex smoothed a thumb over the fold in the letter. “Eliza, the way the General writes suggests that I am the army’s only hope for our victory over the British.”

“Alexander, you know I would never doubt your skill, but I could not imagine that the entire rebellion is doomed without you. They’ve held up these last few weeks in your absence. And they will continue to last without you.” Eliza grabbed onto his arms, and Alex was surprised by the desperation in her grip. “Look around you, Alexander! Is this the world you would leave behind for a place in the war?”

Her eyes were fearful; she didn’t truly know his answer.

Alexander’s eyes softened on her. He took both of his wife’s hands, kissed them gently, touched her cheek. He glanced over at John. John was sleeping, softly, as though he had already recovered. Alex winced, knowing this was far from the case, but the laxness of his face put some ease in Alexander’s heart. He sighed softly and returned his attention to the warmth of his wife’s cheek against his palm.

“My dearest Eliza. If I should choose to go —and as yet I have made no such commitment— you can count on my safe return to you before you even know I have gone.”

She pulled away. “I would certainly know it if our child is born while you’re off in battle.” A hand moved defensively to her stomach as she held herself at enough distance to not feel too terribly stung by his words. “Is this not the world you wanted, Alexander?”

“The world I wanted is one in which my son doesn’t grow up in a world of tyranny.”

She breathed heavily, tears burning on her cheeks. “And I have wanted that, too, but I will live a thousand years under tyrannical rule if it ensures my husband will live to meet our child.”

“We can have both, Eliza. We can have the freedom we have fought for and the happy ending we have earned by it.” He stepped closer, laying a hand on the curve of her stomach, the other moving around to hold around her waist. “Washington writes me with every confidence that should I engage in battle, I will return safely to you. He knows the stakes both of our country and my own personal stakes. You had written him, told him we were expecting a child, and I have written in turn that John is alive but ill and in need of my care.”

“And you consider it more important that you sacrifice all you have here for one moment of glory?”

“I must at least consider it.”

She tore herself from his grip, almost falling back against the wall. She straightened herself and stormed out of the room. Alexander could hear the door to their bedroom slam shut.

“What was that?”

Alex turned and found that some point in the commotion had awoken John, who now shifted in some agitation against the blankets. Alex let his face relax before a smile could come to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, John,” he said, sitting beside him at the desk. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Eliza…” John’s eyes were on the door. “She sounded upset. What upset her?”

“Oh… nothing, my darling. Here, might you sit up? I must change your bandages, and your supper is overdue.”

“My bandages are clean, Alex, and I am not hungry.”

Alex frowned. “John, you know you must eat.”

“I am not hungry.”

“You’ll grow weak if you do not eat.” He stroked a hand over John’s forehead. He felt cooler than Alex last remembered, and that was encouraging, but Alex couldn’t let up. “You need to keep up your strength to fight off the infection.”

John said nothing, so Alex let himself daydream about a day when John was no longer ill. He smiled.

“I cannot imagine you will ever return to your old self. Dr. Terence has said that even should you conquer the fever, which I trust that you will, you may be sickly for the rest of your days.”

John squeezed his eyes shut. “Lovely.”

“I am no happier about it than you are, my love. But imagine, for a moment, that it gives you good cause to stay in my house.”

“You must forgive me, Alex, but I would much rather work.” He’d buried his face in the pillow.

“And you may work yet! Perhaps you will find work to do from home, work that won’t cause too much strain. I imagine I will be quite busy when the war is over, so perhaps you may be around for my children more often than I can be. And you may keep darling Eliza company.”

“Alex—”

“Oh, dearest John, indulge me my fantasies!” He leaned heavily against the bed, reaching desperate hands for his lover. “Tell me you will stay some time longer in my home, some time after you have recovered. I am a selfish man. Do you love me regardless?”

“Yes, I do, but Alex—”

“Indulge your selfish lover his selfish desires, and promise you will stay!”

John sobbed.

Alex froze. He moved wordlessly to sit on the bed, laid a hand on John’s quaking shoulder.

“I’m… so tired…”

Alexander felt guilt and sorrow overwhelm him, and for a long moment, he was speechless. What could he possibly say that would take the pain and illness away from his beloved?

Alex’s eyes turned to the parchment on his desk, and his body followed. He picked up his quill and dipped it in the ink.

“I’m sorry…”


	14. Chapter 14

> _ Most revered G. W., _
> 
> _ I understand what is at stake now, both on your end and on mine, and I must act in the best interest of those who depend on me. You have some good and intelligent soldiers on your side, men who have sustained our forces in my absence. I am neither strong nor brave enough to make a significant difference in a sea of good men, so you must not be seeking my presence in the battle in and of itself. If you are seeking military plans from me, however, I will share my thoughts thusly: _

Alexander wrote and wrote all night, pages upon pages of battle tactics that may aid the army in their cause. The only break he allowed himself during the night was when John was overcome with a rush of painful sickness; Alexander stepped away from the desk long enough to ease him through it (“Shh, darling, we’ll clean you up now and clean the floor in the morning”).

He would not leave the room until daybreak. The letter now was twenty pages; Alexander folded them up and tucked them into the drawer. He promptly headed downstairs into the kitchen and started on cooking breakfast.

“Alexander?”

Alex turned to see Eliza standing in the doorway, holding her stomach in one hand and a candle in the other. The kitchen was dimly lit with a lamp; it was still dark outside. He smiled softly. “Good morning, my dearest.”

“What are you doing, cooking breakfast, and so early?”

“I wished to surprise you.” He set up the food on two plates. “And I have two surprises for you this morning.”

“Two surprises?”

“Yes. But first, breakfast. Will you join me in John’s room?”

Eliza nodded, and followed him back upstairs.

Eliza sat at the desk while Alex took a spot next to John on the bed. He gently nudged John awake, and handed a plate of food to his wife.

“Why is there only one plate for the two of you, Alexander?”

“I suspect John is not terribly hungry, so he and I will share. If it comes to it, I will go and make myself some more food once he’s eaten.”

John slowly came to. He indeed wasn’t hungry, and Alexander had difficulty getting him to eat even a little bit. “John, if you cannot eat even a little food, I must send for Dr. Terence.”

“Please do,” he mumbled, curling in on himself, much to Alexander’s surprise and dismay.

He nodded and offered him a warm smile. “I will as soon as a reasonable hour comes.”

“Alexander?” Eliza interrupted, though she seemed hesitant to do so. “Perhaps what other surprise you had planned will put John at some ease. It was clear in her eyes that she held onto some hope that her husband would turn down the general’s urging that he returned to battle.

Alexander grinned widely, and leaned over to the desk to pull the letter out of the drawer. “Here, my darlings. Might I read this aloud, so that the both of you may be made privy to the news at the same time?”

They both nodded, curious, though John was still mostly tired.

Alexander read much of the letter out loud. He only skipped over some of the more technical strategy bits, knowing that John might show interest to read it later but that Eliza would grow bored and even more impatient. So he mostly skimmed (only reading from the middle to highlight lines he was particularly proud of) until he reached the very end. His voice rose in a crescendo of excitement.

> _ But it is with my most sincere apologies that I must tell you I will not return to the front. _
> 
> _ Yours most sincerely, _
> 
> _ A.  _ _ H. _

Alexander had barely finished the letter when Eliza flung herself, with more agility than he expected of a in such a stage of pregnancy, into his arms. “Alexander…” Eliza’s face was pressed into his shoulder. “Whatever doubt you may ever have about this decision, rest easy knowing you have made the right choice.”

He kissed her cheek. “I know it.” He hugged her tight with one arm, laid his free hand on John’s chest, fingers twisting into his shirt. He had such a good thing here and he never wanted to let it go.


	15. Chapter 15

Two weeks after he sent the letter, there was a knock at the front door. “Eliza, dear, could you answer it?” Alex called downstairs from where he sat in John’s bed, pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. “It’s probably Dr. Terence,” he concluded, more quietly, speaking to John now. “He’s coming for the both of you today. Not too much longer now until my son is born. Shall we name him after you, my dearest?” he asked, smiling, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

John let out a soft puff of a laugh, hazy eyes opening, just for a moment. “I’m certain there is another man more worthy.” He was left breathless by his sentence, but the small smile remained on his face. The air on Alex’s wrist was hot. Alex dampened the cloth again. He only barely squeezed the water out of the cloth before holding it against John’s cheek.

Alex smiled and kissed him on his chapped mouth. John was so scarcely awake these past few days that Alexander couldn’t pass up any opportunity to show his affection. “I cannot imagine a more worthy man for whom to name my firstborn, but perhaps Eliza may think of one.”

John groaned and weakly curled in on himself. Alexander moved to the window as a draft came in; the cold of winter was doing no good for John’s fragile state. He closed it tighter and shut the curtains, blocking out the grey dregs of daylight.

Alexander returned to the bed. He waited for the worst of the pain to pass, and then carefully laid him out flat again. John stiffened, resistant, so Alex had to try harder. “I’m sorry, darling, but you’ve already been struggling to breathe this morning; you must stay in the most beneficial posture.”

“I’m sorry, Alex.” His muscles spasmed as he struggles to loosen up.

Alexander stroked his damp hair gently. “You needn’t be sorry. I know you’re in pain…” He sighed, wishing he didn’t have to witness such a pathetic sight. John deserved so much better. “Can you promise me, though, that you will cooperate with the doctor?”

“I will try.”

Alex smiled and kissed his head once more before the doctor came knocking. “Come in, good sir.” Dr. Terence came in, and Alexander moved off the bed and stepped to the side. “Dr. Terence, how is my son?”

“Doing well. Less than two weeks, I suspect.”

“Oh, happy news indeed! I must convince my wife to name our child after the dear guest we’ve had in our home all this winter.”

Dr. Terence didn’t reply as he started tending to John. Alex sat at the edge of the bed; Dr. Terence had by now given up on trying to send Mr. Hamilton out of the room while he was with his patient, so he reluctantly tolerated his presence as long as Alexander didn’t get in the way of his work. (And, he would never note it aloud, but he didn’t miss how Alexander’s presence seemed to keep John calm and more cooperative than he could otherwise expect.)

Alex watched as the doctor set about his work. He opened up John’s shirt, peeling it away from his sweat-slick skin. He pressed a hand down on his chest, the other hand finding the pulse in John’s wrist. Alex stroked his lover’s hair gently, discreetly, in such a way that was not visible to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. Alex turned his eyes back to Dr. Terence, who had moved to further pull back John’s shirt.

Alex noticed for the first time, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, just how distended John’s abdomen had become. He winced; it certainly looked painful, and was likely to blame for the sharpness and shortness of John’s breaths of late. Alex looked up to the doctor, and found a glint of concern in his eyes, which only unsettled Alexander further.

Dr. Terence then looked almost reluctant as he pressed down on John’s abdomen, earning a weak sob from his patient. After holding the pressure for just a few seconds, he pulled his hands back all at once.

John screamed.

Alex’s blood ran cold.

 

“Mr. Hamilton? Could I speak with you? It is about both your wife and child, and your… guest.”

Alexander nodded stiffly. “John, I will be back shortly.” He laid a cool wet cloth on John’s head, letting his hand linger for a moment, giving himself a moment to watch him sleeping fitfully. Finally, he tore himself away, grabbing his coat and following the doctor to the front door. “Eliza, darling, I will be in in just a few minutes.”

Eliza was pale and wide-eyed, and until she spoke Alexander was worried for her. “Alexander, was that John who screamed a short while ago?”

“Yes, yes, unfortunately.”

“Is he alright?”

Alex forced a reassuring smile and patted her hand. “He’s sleeping now. Keep an ear out for me, but otherwise, continue to enjoy your afternoon.” He kissed her cheek with the doctor turned away, and followed him now outside.

Dr. Terence pulled out his pipe and sat heavily on the bench in their front garden. Alexander hesitantly sat beside him. “Your wife and unborn child are doing well.”

Alex nodded, the slightest hint of a genuine smile coming to his lips. “We are incredibly excited.”

“I can imagine. Your first?”

“Yes, of course.” Alexander was almost offended by an implication of the contrary. “He will be Mrs. Hamilton’s and my firstborn.”

“You seem quite certain it will be a boy.”

“We have always been hopeful for it.”

“Hoping your son will follow in your footsteps.”

Alex laughed a bit awkwardly. “Well, not quite. I will be working toward a much better life for him than I had myself.” It was a surprise to no one that Alexander came from a humble background, so there was no point to being shy about it. He didn’t publicly own all the details, but he’d been told that his ignoble upbringing was evident in his demeanor.

The doctor lit his pipe, took a puff, was silent for a long moment. Alexander was too tense even to break the silence. “I urge you to not keep your newborn child and wife, so soon after giving birth, in the same home as you keep your ailing guest.”

Alex swallowed. “I… may make such arrangements. But what else could you expect?”

“Perhaps your wife and child could stay with her family. Or Mr. Laurens could—”

“There is nowhere else for John to go. And I would much rather not send my wife and son away when they will need me the most.”  _ When I will need them the most. _

“At the risk of their health?”

Alexander could say nothing. He felt as though he was being torn in two.

The doctor tapped his pipe. “That is, if Mr. Laurens lasts so long.”

Alex blanched. “What— What could you mean by that?”

Dr. Terence was silent another long moment. Before Alexander could blow up on him, he sighed heavily. “Mr. Hamilton, I must let you know that there is nothing left I can do for your friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))


	16. Chapter 16

_ Alexander awoke in the grass. _

_ The stars were shining overhead, piercing the dark veil of night; he turned his head, seeking out a most familiar face. John, much to his relief, was sitting up beside him, staring up into the cosmos that was mirrored in the speckles on his face. Alex smiled and settled back into the bed of green, fingers playing with the long blades, other hand reaching for John’s thigh. _

_ Startled, John turned and looked at him. A smile quickly came to his face. “So you’ve decided to rejoin the land of the living.” _

_ Alex laughed. “I couldn’t leave you behind, could I?” _

_ John lay back down, head now just a foot away from Alex’s own. They were alone together out in the field, some ways away from camp. Alex sought to take advantage of every stray moment they had alone together; his hand remained on his companion’s thigh, curling into his flesh through the coarse fabric. John allowed it, but too soon pulled away. “If we get caught?” _

_ “Then let them catch us.” He sat up and pulled his secret lover into a kiss, hand coming up to his cheek in a gentle caress. This, too, John allowed, but only for a moment. _

_ “Alexander.” _

_ “We won’t be. We’re here alone.” _

_ “And if we are?” _

_ Alex turned onto his side, a small smile on his lips. “I’ve never taken you for the cautious type.” _

_ “I worry for you.” _

_ Alexander frowned. “For me?” _

_ “You’ve worked too hard to get to where you are. And I know you will do great things. One sighted moment of intimacy between us could mean the end of your boundless potential.” _

_ Alex sighed and moved so their shoulders were pressed together. “Then if only I could erase you from my heart.” He turned to his companion and smiled again, brighter this time, almost glimmering in the moonlight. “You’ve stolen my sensibility, it seems. But consider it now a gift given freely.” _

_ “You’ll be married in only a week, Alexander.” _

_ “And when I am, I will make her aware of my affection for you.” _

_ John blanched and stammered. “You couldn’t, Alex! You’ll—” _

_ “I could, and I will.” He held John’s hand between his own. “I do not suspect she will be difficult to convince of the truth and sweetness of my feelings for you. I do not doubt that if she may be convinced, she will indulge us. And if I cannot convince her, then I will at least keep her quiet about it.” _

_ “We cannot continue on like this.” _

_ “Let us wait and see about that.” He kissed him again, on the cheek, more softly. And then again, a sudden burning wetness in his eyes. “Do not say such things as that you will sever our bond. I could not imagine a life spent without you.” Alex laughed and sniffled, pressing his face into John’s shoulder. “You have done this to me. You have rendered me a sentimental fool in love.” _

_ Alex kept his face buried in John’s shirt, but felt an arm wrapped around him. They said nothing. They lay back down, their closeness obscured in the tall grass and the screen of midnight. Alexander pressed himself especially close; he laid his head on his lover’s chest and fell asleep to the rhythm of his heart. _

 

Alexander awoke, again, in the grass.

He caught sight of the blades in front of him, felt them prickling against the back of his neck. This was no long, soft, green grass. He’d fallen asleep in the summer and awoke in the dead of winter, and his coarse, brown lawn.

“Mr. Hamilton?”

“Alexander?”

Alex sat up, slowly, holding his head up in one hand as if it would roll off his shoulders if left to its own devices. He looked around as his mind came to again. Dr. Terence was crouched over him, but the glare of the sharp winter sun cast a thick shadow over his face. Alex turned his head slightly to find Eliza kneeling beside him, hands moving to help him sit straight. This was the first time his wife had seen him in such a state. He felt shame rise in his throat, only to be replaced by sickness when he finally recalled why he’d fainted. “Dr. Terence.” He only barely kept the distress he was gripped with out of his voice. “Tell me John will live.”

The doctor sighed and stood up again, removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. “The infection has spread throughout the abdomen. In the worst case, the infection will break into his torso to spread to the lungs, perhaps the heart as well.”

Alexander was distantly aware of Eliza’s gentle hand stroking his hair as they received the news.

Alex swallowed hard, twice, first the lump in his throat and then the acid rising in the same. “And in the best case?” His voice took a lighter tone, full of hope against hope.

Dr. Terence pursed his lips. “He will pass before the infection can spread further.”

Alex swooned again, but Eliza caught him, the suddenness of the stop jerking him back to consciousness.

 

Dr. Terence, at length, took his leave. Husband and wife sat together in the cold air, in the cold grass, a while longer. Any words would fall flat between them, so neither said anything at all. Eliza leaned almost too heavily against her Alexander’s back, the two keeping each other upright. She rubbed his arm, light as a feather. The silence wore on, and even after twenty minutes she dared not break it; she only took Alex’s hand in her own, and moved it to her stomach, their child quite active inside her.

Alexander’s mind jolted at the movement under his fingers. “We must send word to your sister. You will want someone around to help you with our son when he arrives. And a midwife, we must arrange for—”

“Shh… Dr. Terence has already agreed to send one to us in the next few days. Our son will not arrive before then.”

“Yes, right. And… the doctor has recommended that you and the baby stay with family when he arrives, so as not to let John’s illness spread.” He took a shaky breath at the thought of having to choose between being with his wife and newborn son, and staying with John.

Eliza kept rubbing his arm. “I will ask him to reconsider whether the infection is contagious, as no matter how much time we’ve spent with him, neither of us have fallen ill.”

“Eliza—”

“And if it comes to it, I will take the baby to stay with family, and you will stay here to care for him.”

“Eliza, the right choice is not so clear cut—”

“It is, though.” She kissed his shoulder. “If what the doctor says is true, that John only has a short time left, I could not begrudge you staying with him. You will have the rest of your life to spend with our child and I. If I let you make the decision, and you choose to stay with us, then I know you will live the rest of your life in guilt and regret. You are in no position to be burdened with such conflict, so I will decide for you.”

Alexander turned to her, tears freely flowing down his cheek but still not making a sound. He pulled her in and kissed her with more love and passion than he could recall having ever kissed her. It left them both breathless when they finally pulled away, but Alexander was overflowing with emotion, and both hands came to Eliza’s round belly, fingers itching to feel their child’s movements. “I will be the best father I possibly can to you, little one. I am sorry that… that I will not be around the first few weeks of your life, but it is all so that you may have one more person who will love you so dearly in your life.” He bent down and pressed his cheek to the fabric stretched over the bump. “You are— You are just a week away, my son, and I do not give up hope that my dearest friend… the other love of my life, matched only by your incredible mother… may recover in such a time, but it is much more likely it will be a much slower road. So I will stay with him and help him get well while you stay with your perfect mother and your aunties, who will take wonderful care of you. And I will visit as often as I can. I promise, my son, I promise I will be the father I never had, and I promise that you will make me proud every moment of your life.” 

He kissed the bump, right where the child gave a hard kick.

Eliza laughed softly, but some of what Alexander had said was sticking unpleasantly in her mind. But she would not quash what little optimism he could hold onto. If he still believed that John would get well again, who was she to dash this last hope?


	17. Chapter 17

Alexander returned to working. He wrote essays in support of the war efforts, working to convince the general public to support their troops even through fears and doubts. The work proved tireless, and although he spent many hours in the guest room with John (let him read them for improvements in his more lucid hours —there were never any), much of his time was occupied with his writing in whatever space he could do his work most effectively.

Eliza, who had never been adverse to John’s presence in their home and no more so to his relationship with her husband, spent more time in the guest room to keep him company. And Alex was relieved to find them engaged in pleasant conversation, laughing together. He heard John frequently ask after how Eliza was doing with the pregnancy, definitely expressing more concern for her health than the baby, a concern that would leave her face flushed and eyes averted.

“Alexander is a lucky man to have married a woman like yourself.”

After only two days, Eliza went to her husband with tears in her eyes. “I’ve missed you today,” she said quietly into his shoulder as he embraced her. This had been a day that he had spent the entirety working in the sitting room, and John had not awoken since that morning. He had no doubt she was lamenting the absence of them both.

 

The following day the Hamiltons received a letter from Dr. Terence. He wrote to inform them that he was leaving the city for some time and would not return until late spring. He wrote to tell them that a midwife had been secured for their service starting the morning before the child was due, and that he only must know whether she would be sent to the Hamiltons’ or to a family member’s home. He wrote to wish them well with the birth and with their newborn child. He wrote to finalize his comment that there was nothing more he could do for John and that they might not waste time and energy securing another physician for him. He wrote to express what a miracle it was that John was still alive, and that the best that could be done now would be to make him comfortable so that he may pass peacefully.

While Eliza started on a letter to inform the midwife that she would be going to stay with her sisters at her aunt’s house, Alexander tossed the letter in the fire.

“Alexander.”

He turned from watching the flames lick the edges of parchment to find his wife standing in the doorway. He gave her a soft smile. “Yes, my dear, what is it?”

“I was wondering if you might take this letter to the midwife. I… wrote the address down before you could burn the letter. She lives only a mile away.” She approached, cautiously, and stood on her swollen toes to kiss his cheek. “The fresh air might do you some good.”

Alex nodded. “It’s not terribly cold today. I will deliver the message and return quickly.” He stepped around her and into the hallway. The stairway caught his eyes, made them linger and drew them up to the second story of their small home. It was silent. Alexander swallowed. “Eliza, dearest, will you keep an ear out for him while I am away?”

“Of course.”

But as he stepped toward the door, his heart was tugged back to the stairs. It was almost too quiet in the little home. Alexander’s stomach sank into his knees. “I will check on him quickly before I go.”

Eliza nodded and stepped out of his way as he turned and jogged upstairs. She held tight to the bannister, awaiting some kind of response, praying silently.

Alexander went into the long occupied guest room to find John in his bed. He stood frozen in the doorway for the brief moment before he caught the rise and fall of the quilt lain over his sleeping lover. 

Alex finally exhaled with him and approached the bed. One hand reached out, the gentlest of fingers running through the beads of sweat dotting John’s forehead. The muscles beneath the skin were drawn tight together, and Alex winced, chest swelling at the sight of his beloved in such pain even in his sleep. He let out a shaky sigh. “Rest well, my darling, and do not wake until I return.”

Alexander kissed his damp hairline and retreated from the room. He tucked the letter into his pocket and stepped out into a mild winter afternoon.

 

Two more days passed, and Alexander was left alone at home with John. 

With Eliza off to stay with Angelica and Peggy, he saw no reason to leave the room except to cook meals that John wouldn’t eat. Alex had come close, on more than one occasion, to forcing the food down his throat, but Alex had grown almost timid in trying to avoid confrontation at all cost, so when John would say that he couldn’t eat, Alexander would only insist a few more times before giving in and leaving the food to get cold.

In the early afternoon, Alex went and bought some bread from a bakery down the road.

“You’re looking like death, Mr. Hamilton,” the baker said. He felt like it, too. The other man tried to engage him in more conversation, but Alexander mumbled that he had a pot of broth on the fire at home and that he really must just pay for his lot and leave. No more words were exchanged, and Alexander left his money on the counter and left with the same haste with which he’d arrived.

John, like every day for weeks, was not hungry.

“You must eat something.”

“I can’t, Alex.”

“You must, you must keep up your strength.”

“I’ve no strength left in me, and it hurts to eat.”

“You’ve got strength left yet, or you would not still be fighting off the infection.”

“Fighting off? It doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.”

The arguments always left John gasping and panting in such a way Alexander could never carry on the conversation, but today he was relentless. “You have not come so far to give up now,” he insisted, a slight edge in his voice.

“I am not giving up. I would eat if I can. It’s not that I’m not hungry, it’s that it  _ hurts _ , Alex.”

Alexander saw the beginning of tears in his eyes, and he almost faltered. But instead he just dipped the bread in the broth and held it to John’s lips. “It is an easy meal, John, it will not hurt you.”

“It will, though.”

“You will eat it.”

“If I eat it you will see I will only vomit.”

“Then you’ll vomit but at least you’ll have eaten.”

“Alex—”

Alex shoved the bread into his mouth, held it there until John bit off a piece, chewed, swallowed.

The effect was immediate. John’s eyes went wide and he turned quickly onto his side, retching. Almost all liquid —yellow and green with a tinge of red— spilled quickly from his mouth.

John was crying. Alex was shocked into stillness.

“Alex—” John gasped, coughed, gasped again. “Alex, this will have all been for nothing.”

“John…”

“I could not so much as wound him! Lee will have recovered by now, and may be making a mockery of our rebellion as we speak!” He retched again, but this time nothing came out. “I could do nothing of substance for our troops. I could not die on the battlefield for the freedom we so vividly dreamed of.” He was yelling through his sobs, even as he quickly grew weaker. “I will die in disgrace!”

The guilt came on Alex in one huge wave. For having not listened when John said he couldn’t eat if he tried; for having forced the food into his mouth despite the protests; for having gotten his beloved into such a state in the first place.

But Alexander beat the thoughts away from his mind. He could not give in to despair now. John was breaking, and rightfully so; Alex could not afford to join in his grief. He had to hold steady, be strong when John couldn’t. It was the very, very least he could do.

So Alex just wrapped a violently trembling John up in his arms, rocked him gently, shushing him quietly.

_ You only need to stay strong as long as he’s awake to see you. _

Some time later, once the tears had dried and the sobs had subsided, John finally fell asleep. It was neither restless nor peaceful, and for a terrible moment Alexander thought he was gone. But an erratic, reedy pulse assured him that no, John had not given in just yet. He was still fighting; and as long as he was fighting, Alexander would not lose hope. He would not give up on him, not now and not ever.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fall into his own sobs as the pain and remorse became unbearable.

 

John’s fever had spiked.

Alexander, helplessly, let him writhe about under the covers.

Alex sat in the desk at John’s bedside, writing incessantly to block out the shifting and groaning.

He wrote to Eliza; ( _ “I trust your family is treating you as well as an angel such as yourself deserves. Please also remember your promise to write me as soon as our child is born; we must discuss a name as soon as possible.” _ ). He wrote to Lafayette; ( _ “I regret to inform you that this dear friend of yours has not yet recovered. Know that I will keep you updated with any news, and do not let it distract you from your purposes.” _ ). He wrote to the General; ( _ “Several weeks into the infection, Laurens lives still. I write in hope you might know what a valiant soldier you’ve lost.” _ ).

It was around the time he finished this last letter that he heard the soft thud of the quilts hitting the floor. Alex looked over and saw that John had kicked them off of his burning body. He sighed softly and stood. He dampened the cloth again and laid it back against John’s forehead before moving to retrieve the blankets.

“John, you must keep these on.”

“It’s too hot…!”

Alex grimaced. “I know, darling, but it will help ease your fever.”

John continued writhing as he opened his unfocused eyes, the lids swollen and purple as the rest of his face and neck had gone pinkish red.  _ Like fire _ . “Too hot, too hot! Hurts too much…”

Alexander tried to wrap him back up in the blankets, but John hit and kicked in a burning delirium, and his efforts proved useless in time for Alex to consider perhaps this wasn’t the best route to take.

_ Even in this state, Alex, he knows his body better than yourself. Trust him on this. Cool him down, don’t boil him _ .

Alex quickly, wordlessly, picked up the bowl of water and hurried to the room across the hall. He pushed open the window and collected snow from the sill into the bowl, and shut out the cold air before returning to John’s side. With a spoon from breakfast, he collected the snow and sprinkled it onto John’s burning body. 

John shivered at the sudden cold, but a smile came to his face.

Alex continued the ritual the rest of the afternoon and all through the night. His neighbors passing made comments amongst themselves as they saw him coming repeatedly out into his garden to collect snow in a bowl before running back inside. Each time the smile on his face was brighter.

He didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night. In the morning John’s fever cooled in such a way that they could both sleep peacefully through the rest of the afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the penultimate chapter.


	18. Chapter 18

A week passed since John had last eaten anything substantive. He’d grown quiet, slept more often, but more peacefully even as the fever persisted. Alexander managed to keep him hydrated with moderate effort, especially as John put up less of a fight as he grew steadily weaker. 

Some nights Alex cried, some nights he did not. If he cried he made sure that John wouldn’t know he did.

Almost two weeks since Eliza had gone to stay with family, Alexander received a letter in her elegant handwriting. He smiled softly as he opened it out in the garden. It was still dark out; he read by lamplight.

> _ My dearest, Alexander, _
> 
> _ I am elated to tell you a perfect little boy has come into our lives. On the morning of the 22nd, amid the many women of my family, our son was born, good and healthy, kicking and crying and oh so beautiful. I have decided on a name that will be finalized on the day of his Christening: _

Alexander startled. Eliza had elected, of her own volition, to name their firstborn son after his John.

And he knew the gesture should have filled him with joy. Instead he felt a pang of grief.

He returned into their home and, still by lamplight, in the solitude of his marital bedroom, started on a reply.

> _ Darling Eliza, _
> 
> _ Words could not express the happiness with which I find myself enraptured at your news. I positively cannot wait to greet our son into his home and into my arms. I suspect the time will come soon that the two of you may return to the home you’ve worked so hard to make ready for our family. _
> 
> _ I do have one small grievance, however, and nothing of your ill-doing. You have elected, without my counsel, to name our son after my beloved John, and I thought for some time I should be delighted at the prospect. But I fear instead that, given recent events, to stick our son with such a name will cause nothing but grief for all of us. And so, with the heaviest of hearts, I must ask that you choose another name (any name) for our child before you return home. _
> 
> _ I fear the worst of possible conclusions will soon befall my John. I will spare the details so as not to worry you at such a time, but in spite of my great hopes that he would be able to meet our child, I do not think he will be with us long enough for this dream to come true. _
> 
> _ I know you have come to appreciate his companionship, and fate may leave you dismayed to find that you two will never meet again. Only know that I do whatever I can to keep him comfortable, and that he does not seem to be in so much pain as he had been previously. He has confided in me that he loves you as a dear friend, and I have told him that your feelings are the same, as I know to be the truth. But do not take this time to grow weary for his loss, as you have a beautiful little boy to celebrate now! _
> 
> _ As I begin to relinquish the optimism I’ve held to so firmly, I only grow more aware of all you’ve done for me and for him. Your graciousness knows no bounds. I have truly been blessed with the best of all possible wives. _
> 
> _ Yours forever, _
> 
> _ Alexander _

Alexander sat by John’s bedside the rest of the day, gently holding his hand. His face was peaceful as he slept, but Alexander’s heart sank when, by nightfall, he had not yet awoken.

 

Three days passed. John had been waking infrequently, languishing in a moderate fever. He maintained some strength as he resumed eating small bits of food, but these were always quickly vomited back up. Alexander often lay in the bed with him for hours at a time, leaving work undone, all else in the world feeling meaningless as he held his wilting lover in his arms. Alex was left startled at just how thin his companion had grown in the span of his illness; often he found (with mild horror) that he needn’t check his pulse for even the weak throb was visible through his flesh.

On the night of January 26th, a sense of calmness washed over the both of them. Alexander was holding John to his chest, fingers running over his protruding ribs and feeling him breathe through the deep, dull pain in his abdomen.

In a response to a letter Alexander had written a nearby doctor, the doctor had called the infection  _ necrotic _ .

“Alex.”

“Hm?”

For several moments he received no response. But then, “Would you have married me, too?”

Alex kissed his head. “I’ve told you long ago and time and again, I would have.”

John settled deeper in his body. “Then… can we pretend… just for a bit.”

Alex gave him a wet smile and removed the ring from his finger. "I, Alexander Hamilton, take thee, John Laurens, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part." Choking back a sob, he slipped the ring onto John’s finger.

John watched it glisten for a moment in the moonlight. The love that would outlast him. “I…” He took a quivering breath. “I said before that I will die in disgrace…” The start of a smile twitched on his cracked lips. “I will not. I will have died in love, and knowing the love was returned.” 

Alexander only held him more tightly, and kissed his head. He tucked his face into the tangled mess of John’s hair, willing that John would not see him cry again.

John fumbled in pulling it back off, echoing Alexander’s vows but more softly, more slowly. And then the ring was back on Alex’s finger. In the eyes of the law and the eyes of God, he was married only to Eliza; in his heart, now, he was married to both loves of his life. 

Alex nuzzled John’s damp hair. “My husband.”

John smiled warmly, and fell asleep.

 

In the morning, before dawn, Alexander awoke to frenetic knocks at the front door. He gave a quick kiss to John’s temple before untangling himself from their sleepy embrace. A part of him hoped the knocking wouldn’t awaken John, who needed all the rest he could get, while another prayed he would awaken at least once that day, just once.

At the door he found a rosy and excited Eliza, and wrapped in her arms the bundle that was their infant son.

Alexander’s eyes lit up at the first sight of his child. His son’s face peeked out of the blanket, and the boy was as beautiful as Eliza had told him, precious as he slept in his mother’s arms. He longed to hold him for himself, but Alex was frozen in some confusion as he gave the situation a moment’s thought. “Eliza, dearest, what are you doing here?”

“I had received your letter. I have decided we may name our son Philip, after my father, but while John remains with us I must ask that he keep the first name I’ve given him.”

Alex paused, but nodded slowly. He laughed just a little. “And this could not have been expressed in a letter?”

She smiled slyly. “It seems I have taken much from my husband’s scheming mind. Is John still here? Is he well?”

“He— He is, and he’s been worse, I believe, but I know he will not be with us long.”

She hummed and gently rocked their son as he started to cry. “Would be make it to the window?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then I will stand in the garden, and he may look down and see the child we’ve named for him.”

Alex froze, but nodded. Eliza had already turned heel and headed into the garden. Alex needed now only to coax John from the bed to the window. He looked briefly to the sky; the black of night was turning a dull silver. He moved quickly up the stairs.

John was asleep, lying incredibly still under the thick covers. Alexander rushed forward and took him by the shoulders, shaking him gently but with barely restrained urgency.

“John!”

John let out a quiet whine and slowly opened his eyes. “Alex…?”

“Come, out of bed, I’ve got something to show you.” He was already pulling back the quilt.

John watched him in some confusion, and struggled to comply. He moved to sit up, but a tightness deep in his body pinned him to the bed. Gasping, and eyes growing wet as darkness edged his vision, he could only stare up at Alexander. He’d been under the blanket so long he’d forgotten just how cold the room could be. He only just managed to huff out a laugh between pants. “May prove easier said than done…”

Alex flinched, but shook it off and moved on quickly. “Then I will carry you to the window.”

A light flickered behind John’s eyes. “Alex? Will we be watching the sunrise again this morning?”

Alex grinned, peeking out the window to see the start of color come into the sky. “Yes, darling, but we must move quickly or we will miss it. Come on, now; I’ve got you.”

Alexander scooped John up into his arms. It was incredibly easy these days. John held weakly to his neck as Alex moved them to sit next to the window. Alex sat against the wall of the little alcove of the window seat, and let John lay against his chest.

“Can you see them from here, dearest?”

John’s wet red eyes moved to the window. “I can see the houses… And the sky…”

“How about the garden?”

“No, not from here.”

“A new angle, perhaps.” Alexander maneuvered them both so that John could sit up a bit more, both arms wrapped around John’s chest. From here they could both look down on the lawn out in front, but the heat of their bodies had fogged up the window. Alex tried to wipe the mist away, but it only smeared against the glass and everything outside remained blurry. He drooped as he failed to see Eliza and the baby.

“Alex? Let’s open the window.”

“John—” He bit the inside of his cheek, worrying for the cold getting into the room.

“The sun’s… coming up.”

Alexander blink away tears and nodded. He unhooked the latch on the window and pushed it open.

The cold air hit them both. The sky was an icy gray edged with rosy pink, and the sun could just be made out between the rows and rows of houses,clearer than ever, as though the world had made way for them, just for this moment.

Down in the garden, Eliza sat on the bench, their newborn bundle wrapped in her arms. His face poked out from the blankets. Alex was quick to point them out. “There he is, John. My son. The child Eliza and I have named for you.”

John gave a weak pant as he only took in the infant’s softness, the way a little hand clung to its mother. “He’s… beautiful… Alex…”

It was as Alex had feared. The chill in the air quickly made its way into John’s bones, and he fell back, shivering, against Alexander’s chest. But he was smiling even as he lay there, pale and gasping. Alex only held him, buried his face back into his hair, mumbled soft and frantic declarations of love —love that would last a lifetime and beyond.

John let out one moment of a joyful laugh, and then went still and quiet in his eternal lover’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who stuck around to the end! I'm so happy to have broken a few hearts over the course of writing this :')
> 
> Main blog: http://litsy-kalyptica.tumblr.com  
> Hamilton blog: http://elams.tumblr.com  
> Elams ask blog: http://ask-elams.tumblr.com  
> Philidosia ask blog: http://ask-philidosia.tumblr.com  
> Elams RP blog: http://bisexualdistress.tumblr.com


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